


Six of One

by jeejaschocolate



Series: Dressed to the Nines [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ambiguous Sexual Orientation, Ardyn is kind of a creep, Body Worship, But not a villain, Class Differences, Cock Worship, Corsetry, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, Feminization, First Time Bottoming, Genderplay, Gowns, Hand Jobs, Historical Dress, Kissing, London in the 1850s, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Noctis is a brat, Orgasm Delay, Porn With Plot, Roughness, Sexually charged dialogue, Social rigidity, Sorry Not Sorry, Teasing, Touching, Unclear backstory, Victorian era!AU, long conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: (Victorian Era AU -1850s London)It was supposed to be a laugh. Just a silly romp around town wearing the dress he’d seen in the store window of Harrods. No one would ever find out it was him—Noctis, the wayward son of Lord Caelum.He never thought he’d actually catch someone’s eye. Let alone the eye of some gentleman from an unknown family. Izunia? Who’d ever heard the name before?…Maybe Noctis was in over his head.





	1. The Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely sure where this idea came from, but here it is. Craving some Victorian AU? Because I sure was. Oh, and Ardynoct. But then again I'm always craving Ardynoct. I wasn't actually planning on longfic, but then again...it's me. Like guys, it's me. *seriously*
> 
> Notes on historical references: I'm kind of a historical fangirl and the Victorian is one of my *things*. So I tried to do some research on the locations and practices mentioned here. There are some inconsistencies (I know Ravenscourt Park didn't technically open to the public until 1888, but, bah this is fanfiction), but I hope you'll bear with me! Also, I tried to keep the characters in their normal colloquial voices (in line with the English dub) because I thought it would be weird not to. So obviously yeah, they wouldn't really talk like this in the 1850s. This is imagination land.
> 
> As for the dress, I had a pretty clear picture in my head. [This was the style and general design](http://theebonswan.blogspot.com/2014/09/black-muslin-dress-1850-55.html) I had in mind, but [this was the color](http://www.everytimefashion.com/explore/26988). With black trimming in the middle. 
> 
> Here's some stuff! Enjoy!

_Knightsbridge, London  
_ _19 October, 1856  
_ _Tuesday_

 

This dress really was the envy of all. Noctis stood amongst the crowd and stared, listening to the idyl whispers floating around the streets of Knightsbridge. 

“I’ve never seen a neckline quite that low…” some woman remarked. Indeed, the dress sported a v-shaped neckline that dipped down almost to the navel area. One would need to wear a chemisette to cover the bust. 

“Harrods has gone to the dogs,” a man sniffed. “They’ve fallen to this new fashion nonsense.” 

In truth, it was rather new.

Noctis adjusted the brim of his top hat and looked harder. He’d heard a rumor that Harrods department store was about to unveil a new day dress they had been working on for months. Everyone was curious about it and even Noctis had made it his business to be in Knightsbridge this afternoon for the reveal. 

But this defied expectations!

“I’d like to see the woman that would wear such a thing in the daytime hours,” another woman sneered. “You certainly wouldn’t find a woman like that except in Whitechapel!” 

A few people laughed. Noctis frowned. He definitely did not think someone had to be a woman of the night to appreciate new fashion. Honestly, he would love to see someone wearing that down the street. Not for any occasion, just because it was a normal day and this was a dress meant to be worn. With confidence and a steady, unselfconscious stride; the kind of poise such a dress called for.

Seriously. Why not?

“Them East End girls have to work too, love,” a man answered. A few snickers rang through the crowd.

Yeah, right. The price tag alone would chase away anyone below Noctis’s station. A pretty penny for such finery. It seemed fair. 

The dress was made of sheer muslin and wool. The sleeves just barely met the wrists, but they were loose. They hung off the store model in a teasing fashion, billowing out to advertise the bare arms that lay underneath. There were five ruffles along the skirt—the crinoline was not overdone, as was the new fashion these days. Just enough. A tight bodice in the middle giving way to an appealing hourglass shape.

To say nothing of the color. A deep, dark purple. The material actually appeared black at first blush, but when you looked twice you noticed the way bold color seeped into the edges of the sleeves. Violet hues drenched the layers of the skirt, highlighted by ebony trim to give a deceiving kind of contrast. 

Noctis had never seen anything like it before. Neither had anyone else.

He gazed curiously at the mid section. Unconsciously, he sucked in his breath and imagined what it would feel like to wear the corset necessary to fit into a dress like this. He’d always wondered. The waist shape it gave a woman was so appealing…

Noctis bit his lip and ran a hand down his stomach. By comparison, the high waist of his breeches felt drab and silly. He wore the same outfit every day! Just a slight variation in coat and color, that was it. 

How exciting would it be to wear something as mesmerizing and bespoke as this new dress…? 

“The caged crinoline really is lighter, isn’t it?” a bemused young woman mentioned from the sidelines. 

She was referring to the wired structure that gave the dress and petticoat its shape. Noctis knew from watching his mother dress as a young child that those underskirts used to be made of layers upon layers of material. But this one was not. It was just a caged hoop skirt made out of whalebone and reeds _._ So much lighter! Not nearly as much extra material to worry about, and the petticoat would still hold its shape. Leaving a woman free to frolic about from chore to chore, as women were wont to do. 

A few of the younger women in the crowd simpered with jealousy. Noctis imagined how their own petticoats must chafe when they thought about the freedom of the thinner, lighter, caged crinoline.

Someone was going to snap this dress right up, Noctis thought. As well they should. It was the height of fashion. Not quite avant-garde, but certainly outside the norm. Any woman flouncing around town in that get up would be the belle of the ball, the talk of the town.

The only question now—the one gluing everyone to the streets outside of the Harrods' department store on an otherwise normal Tuesday morning—was: Who would be the one to purchase this new dress?

Noctis huffed. So unfair that it would go to one of those tittering housewives, or some recently debuted coquette. A dress like that was special. It should go to a higher purpose, something out of the ordinary. Hell, the color would look great on Noctis! If anything he should be the one to wear it—

Making up his mind in mere seconds, Noctis grunted a laugh and strode into the store. The crowd parted for him, sensing his aura of determination. He removed his hat dramatically, flashed the salesman a smile, and paid for the dress with one dramatic sweep of his pen. 

When the salesman turned the sign in the window to read “sold,” Noctis was sure he had never been more proud of himself.

The rest of the crowd just gaped when the son of Lord Caelum marched out with a gift receipt in hand. They watched as Noctis loudly called back to the salesman that he would be expecting their delivery by carriage the following Sunday.

Some young women whispered behind their hands. Had the obstinate young master finally found a sweetheart? Some debutante brimming with fortune, lucky enough that the Caelum heir wanted to lavish her with a spectacular gift? How unfair. 

The older women in the crowd shook their heads disapprovingly. “I always knew that boy was wayward,” they remarked. After this, who could say otherwise?

“Old man Regis has his hands full, that’s for certain,” some of the older men said. They felt sympathy for Lord Caelum, who was a good acquaintance by anyone’s standards. “What did he do to deserve a lad like that?”

And still, a few of the younger men in the crowd nodded pointedly at Noctis as he passed. “Good on you, mate,” they muttered. Noctis had very few of his own friends (wasn’t he just a little too full of himself at day’s end? Stand-offish in an unappealing way? Maybe slightly…odd?), but they could still respect that level of boldness. 

Noctis absorbed all of the chatter. His grin widened. 

“Just watch me,” he said under his breath.

They were all so simpleminded! It almost made Noctis sick to his stomach. 

But whatever.He was going to fool them all. 

_________________________________________________

 

 _Chiswick, London  
_ _25 October, 1856  
_ _Monday - Morning_

 

“Are you quite sure this is a good idea, Master Caelum?” 

Ignis tugged tightly on the strings of the corset Noctis had purchased a week ago. It was Noctis’s good luck that Ignis even knew how to tie a corset like this; nothing in the bespactacled man’s valet training had ever covered women’s garments. But, fortunately, Ignis had made it his own business to become adept in dressing both male and female vestments. Purely for his own fascination at first. And then later because it became apparent Ignis might need to double as the majordomo of the Caelum household. In which case he should be well-versed in all accoutrements, he thought.

Noctis stood in front of his bedroom mirror, wearing only a chemisette and some short men’s pantaloons. He had not gotten around to purchasing any women’s drawers, and well…he felt kind of weird asking one of the maids to borrow theirs. They’d probably think he was some kind of pervert who got off on handling women’s underthings…

Which he wasn’t. And he _didn’t_. To be clear.

Really, the only person Noctis could trust to help him with this was Ignis. Because damn he really could not do this alone. So many laces and ties—and they had not even tackled the crinoline yet!

“It’ll be fine, Iggy,” Noctis struggled to say, as he held his breath. He sucked in air again when Ignis tightened the laces even further. The corset was pale pink and made from whalebone. Much, much, _much_ tighter than Noctis had expected. 

“What’s the worst that could hap—ah, _Jesus_ , Ignis, are you sure it needs to be that tight?”

Ignis’s face remained passive, focused only on the laces. “Hourglass figure, Noct. I believe the style these days is the wasp waist, isn’t it?” 

Black spots danced on the edges of Noctis’s vision. Yeah, yeah. Tight bodices and all that. Did women have to put up with this shit every day?

…Actually it was kind of awesome. Noctis stared at himself in the mirror. He could see his waist getting smaller and smaller, accentuating his hips. He’d always been kind of skinny his whole life. Thinness was not so attractive on a man. Now, with the corset, Noctis thought he looked…hot. The whalebones tucked him in and gave his torso such a pleasing shape. 

He couldn’t wait to see the finished product. 

“Just get it over with,” Noctis said between clenched teeth. 

Ignis blinked. His mouth was a thin line. “If you’re certain, Master.” 

Well. It wasn’t the worst thing Ignis had ever done for Noctis. That award went to the time Noctis was seven years old and Ignis slipped some brandy in his nanny’s tea to make the older woman fall asleep, because Noctis wanted to play in the gardens instead of attending to his grammar studies. Fortunately, no one ever found out about the scheme, or about the fact that Ignis helped him shirk his duties. All they knew was that Noctis somehow wound up late for dinner, as dirty as a peasant by the end of the day. They’d gotten the nanny fired for that, which they always quietly felt guilty about afterwards. 

Nor was this even the dumbest thing Ignis had done for him. That had to be the time Noctis was thirteen and he wanted to ride the new stallion his father just purchased, the one Regis forbid Noctis from riding until his son grew a few more inches. Incensed and enticed beyond reason, Noctis recruited Ignis in a hackneyed scheme to steal the stallion and go for a quick joy ride. By chance, Ignis was able to distract the stable-master with some idyll banter about the Napoleonic Wars while Noctis led the horse out to paddock. Of course, as it turned out, Regis had been completely in the right to think Noctis was not ready. The young lord had absolutely no control over the stallion. Instead of riding him, Noctis was led on a harrowing journey all the way into Gunnersbury Park before some good samaritan noticed the boy in distress and finally brought the beast to a halt. In the midst of all that nonsense, Noctis might have fallen and been trampled to death! So foolhardy of Ignis to go along with any of it…

But still. Ignis’s orders were not to guide Noctis. Merely to stay by his side and make sure all his needs were met. Which Ignis did a fan-fucking-tastic job of managing (most of the time, anyway). 

Now Noctis was a young man of nineteen and he wanted to flounce around town in a woman’s dress. Ignis figured this new fancy fell somewhere in the middle from harmless to brainless. 

Besides. After so many years of servitude and friendship, it was not within Ignis’s capabilities to say no to his master. So he could only do his best work dressing him and believe that Noctis would use his own wits to handle whatever came next. In truth, he was not terribly worried. Under his knowing hand, Ignis could make Noctis look like one hell of a woman.

Finally finished with the corset, Ignis lifted the crinoline cage over Noctis’s head and slowly fit it around his master’s waist. Fascinated at the sight of his legs framed by wires, Noctis turned this way and that. The hoop skirt wiggled ever so slightly as he moved. The barest amount of give to make the dress bounce minutely when he walked. 

“Okay,” Noctis surmised, running his hands down the reeds. “Let’s keep going.” 

Ignis carefully checked the wires to make sure the hoops around the back of Noctis’s thighs had enough give to allow his master to sit down. They did. Satisfied, Ignis gave Noctis a quick tutorial on how to sit while he was wearing the caged crinoline. He told Noctis to practice a few times. Not too bad. 

Actually, Ignis thought as he dressed Noctis in the petticoat and chemisette, it was a good change of pace. Dressing someone in female garments. He wouldn’t mind doing this again, maybe.

“Here.” Ignis gave Noctis the pair of silverware pillows he had pilfered from the cutlery drawer. Two hand-sized pillows meant to cushion the knives and forks as they lay in the drawer. “You should…adjust them as you need to.”

Smirking, Noctis stuffed the pillows underneath the chemisette to give himself a bust. The hemline covered the pillows while the top of the corset kept them in place. A foolproof method for instant breasts. Or, their imitation. 

“Heh, they look almost real,” Noctis mused. He was fondling the new addition to his anatomy in the mirror. Crossing the line into lewd territory, Ignis thought. 

The valet cleared his throat—reminding Noctis of propriety (sort of ironically at this point)—and gently unwrapped the dress itself. 

“My, my…” Ignis whispered. He stroked the muslin with his fingers. At the very least, he could say that Noctis had good taste. This dress really was remarkable. Not just the midnight purple color, but the bespoke, classy quality of the material itself. The whole ensemble. It was eye-catching, a thing of beauty. 

“Pretty, right?” Noctis asked.

“Indeed.” Though Ignis certainly detected the laugh in the back of Noctis’s throat.

Just why did his master want to do this? Ignis might have asked him, but it would have been a breach of station. _That_ little piece of honesty was none of Ignis’s business. 

Furthermore, he figured there was a good chance Noctis himself did not know.

The bottom half of the dress went on first. Surprisingly, this was the most difficult part yet. Ignis needed to ruffle the material several times to make sure it kept its shape when he slid the skirt over Noctis’s head. He hated being so rough with the material, though. A shame. This is why most gentlewomen had at least two handmaids to help her dress. Ignis was doing the best he could as a party of one. He smoothed the muslin over the petticoat and caged crinoline with both hands for several minutes. Just to make sure everything fell exactly as it should. 

Now for the top half. The bodice and sleeves. Ignis adjusted his glasses and got to work. The bodice fit snuggly, as it was meant to. He brushed the sleeves with the backs of his hands, making sure they dangled nicely over his master’s wrists. The proper way. Happy with his work, Ignis stepped away to ready the bonnet. 

Noctis stared at himself in the mirror. His blue eyes widened to take in every detail. It was more than a little strange! When he touched his stomach, he could not feel the stroke of his own hand. Just the whalebone underneath. Whenever he took a step, an artificial breeze wafted between his legs. It was quite freeing on one hand, to be able to swish around. The dress moved with him like some kind of companion. But it was also weird. The breeze around his ankles and underneath the hoop skirt struck Noctis as odd. 

The way that it felt. Having space there.

That aside, Noctis knew he looked damn good. His face had always been sort of feminine-looking (not that Noctis would ever admit that out loud). With the fake bust, dressed to the nines, he really could pass as a woman.

A flicker of excitement came to life inside Noctis’s chest. He had done a lot of dangerous shit in his life (that time he got into a street fight with some people in the East End; that time he decided to have a drinking contest: Himself against all the other guys at the pub; or that time he went swimming in the Thames on a Sunday just to tell the bobbies to fuck off), but he’d never done anything like this. He’d never pretended to be the opposite gender before. Obviously, but…yeah. 

Looking like a woman was a new thrill. Even in his own room. The thought that people were actually going to _see_ him…Noctis licked his lips, suddenly aware that the caged crinoline made it impossible for anyone to see that bulge between his legs. He was completely hidden down there. 

Fuck. Why did that make him…? 

“Here we are,” Ignis announced, unearthing the bonnet from its box. It was the same purple shade as the dress, made of satin, with ruffles underneath the poke. There was a wide black ribbon wrapped around the girth of it, sitting atop the crown in a large bow. The long ends of the ribbon dangled underneath the chin.

Noctis shook his head from side to side like a wet dog. Whatever. That was just a natural reaction to seeing something as attractive as this dress, on his own body no less. But he couldn’t get sidetracked from the point of all this. 

He wanted to have a laugh at the expense of all those stuck-up people in town. The ones who whispered (just loud enough for him to hear) behind their hands that Noctis would never amount to the man his father was. That he could never run the Caelum household and take care of the estate like the highbred nobleman he was supposed to be. The whispers had started back when Noctis was barely ten years old—the townspeople had nothing better to do than speculate on how much of a failure Noctis would turn out to be. 

“Look at that awkward gait (the result of the carriage accident that killed his mother), those faraway eyes. That clipped, insolent way of talking. No way the boy can become as regal and forthright of a man as Regis!”

What the hell did they know? Absolutely jack shit. Noctis would prove it! He would walk around all day like this, just for his own personal satisfaction, knowing that people couldn’t tell a man from a woman. Probably couldn’t even tell their ass from their elbow when it came down to it…

Basically everything Noctis did in his young adult life was meant to show the world that it was wrong. About him especially. 

(He knew in his heart, of course, that every time he lashed out he technically proved them right. But he buried that truth somewhere deep inside. It was way more fun to rile up the stuffed shirts than to take the time to examine his own shortcomings.) 

Ignis folded the bonnet over his master’s head. He tied a floppy bow with the ends across the hollow of Noctis’s throat. Good thing the poke bonnet style made it so that Noctis didn’t have to worry about wearing a wig or some other contraption. Most women kept their hair hidden underneath a bonnet anyway. 

Unblinking—as if this were a task he did every day of the week—Ignis held out a small cask of rouge. “For your lips, Master,” he clarified.

Noctis eyed the cask warily. “You sure I need it?” 

The valet stiffened. “Your lips are the tiniest bit pale, sir.” As far as Ignis was concerned, if they were going to do this, then they would do it all the way. No half or quarter measures. 

Noctis looked himself in the mirror again, considering it. Why did this part—actually wearing make-up—feel like crossing a line? It shouldn’t. Hell, Noctis was already standing there in caged crinoline and a full day gown, but…

“May I?” Ignis dipped the applicator brush into the rouge and approached Noctis. “I’ll keep my hand steady and light.”

Shrugging, (and also basically giving in because Ignis was coming at him like he knew exactly what he was doing), Noctis closed his eyes and let Ignis apply some rouge to his lips. 

“There we are.” 

When Noctis opened his eyes, he almost surprised himself. The rouge made his lips look fuller, especially the bottom lip which appeared downright plump. Noctis wanted to touch his lips, to see if somehow the rouge had given them some kind of depth that he hadn’t had before, but of course that would smear the cosmetics. So he left alone and blinked a few times. Squinting to see the outline of his normal self. 

The illusion was complete.

“Final thoughts?” Ignis asked as he surveyed Noctis from all sides. 

The young master combed his bangs with his fingers, making sure some black hair peeked out from underneath the poke bonnet in a seductive way. He pursed his lips and turned his face side to side, taking it all in.

“Wow, Iggy.” Noctis faced his valet with a mischievous smile. “You did a fucking great job. …You sure this is your first time with women’s clothes?”

Ignis nodded his thanks and adjusted his glasses once more. “Beginner’s luck, perhaps.” 

“Hell, no.” Shaking his head, Noctis took a few dainty steps up and down his room. The sway of his hips perfectly imitated a woman’s. “I could go in front of anyone right now and they would have no idea I’m really a dude.” He barked a short laugh. “Seriously! Debut me, right now. Let’s have a party or something. It would be hilarious.”

Ignis sighed. He knocked on the door from the inside, a signal to the young man waiting nearby. “Let’s stick to the original plan, Master.” 

A knock came from the other side. Once and then twice. As agreed, Ignis opened the door and allowed Noctis to step outside first. 

Noctis’s closest friend, a blond man of his same age named Prompto, stood in the hallway. He had been charged with escorting Noctis through town in his normal attire (actually, slightly more upscale than normal since the Argentums were a staunchly middle class family). Ignis only agreed to let Noctis go ahead with this cockamamie farce because he knew Prompto would be there as some kind of male presence. Making Noctis’s female self seem as if she were already ‘spoken for.’ 

As soon as Prompto laid eyes on his best friend, his jaw nearly hit the ground. A light blush dusted his cheeks and he had to take a step back. For what reason, no one could say.

“Whaddya think?” Noctis asked, wagging his hips to make the skirt sway. “Funny, right?” 

“Uh…” Prompto forced his mouth closed. He glanced at Ignis, trying to suss out an appropriate reaction to the sight in front of him. “I was…gonna say….”

Seeing his friend hemming and hawing—was that sweat beading across his forehead? The hell?—Noctis frowned. Why didn’t Prompto think this was hilarious? Noctis sure did!

Getting no signals from Ignis, Prompto quickly changed his tune. He fiddled with the top hat in his hands (a change from the usual bowler hat he always wore) and broke into a huge smile. “Umm, yeah! Super funny, dude!” 

Prompto took a step forward to slap Noctis on the shoulder like he usually did when they shared a joke. But for some reason he stopped short this time, gently knocking the backs of his fingers against his friend instead. 

“Hey, come on.” Noctis crossed his arms in frustration. He knew what was going on here. “It’s still me, Prom. Just because I’m wearing a dress doesn’t mean I’m like suddenly a girl now or something.” 

“No, I know, I know!” Prompto forced another laugh. “And I think it’s a great prank. I’m like, busting a gut here, man.” 

Unconvinced, Noctis huffed and glanced away. It seemed like Prompto—as much as he wanted to be supportive—just didn’t get it. Noctis had seen the way Prompto surreptitiously wiped his fingers against his pant leg after he touched Noctis, as if he had just touched something wet. Or like he wanted to brush away the memory of how Noctis felt. 

It was really unlike Prompto. But then, this whole situation was fairly far from their normal day-to-day. So Noctis decided to shrug it off.

“If you’re ready,” Ignis began, gesturing towards the staircase leading down. “I believe we have a limited window of opportunity for this.” 

Letting the moment pass awkwardly, they followed Ignis down the stairs. In order to avoid detection by any of the other household staff, Noctis needed to exit through the back door. Typically used as a servant’s entrance. From there, he and Prompto could walk from the back of the grounds out to the street. If they met anyone on the way, Prompto might be able to act like he was visiting with some female friend of his (if Noctis hid his face behind the bonnet). 

When they reached the servant’s entrance, there was one lone footman standing guard by the door. As planned. The rest of the staff had been persuaded to work elsewhere for the next hour at least—by this very footman, a burly man Noctis had grown close to in his childhood, named Gladiolus. Apparently Gladiolus could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. They hurried to meet him.

Naturally, Gladiolus caught sight of Noctis hiking up his skirt and running down the hallway in his ankle-length boots (the young lord had no women’s shoes, so his own button-up walking shoes would have to suffice). The first thing he did was shake his head. Seemingly at a loss for words.

Then he said,“This is a bad idea. I told you that, right? I mean, we talked about this?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting in over my head again,” Noctis mocked, putting on Gladiolus’s voice. “You told me. Only like, a million times.” 

Throwing his hands up in the air—suddenly determined to look in any direction but Noctis’s—Gladiolus heaved a sigh and replied, “Okay. As long as it’s on record that I’m not into this. At all. Sir.” 

“Noted, Third Footman, thank you,” Noctis shot back sarcastically. With an obvious roll of his eyes.

Irked, (as he always was when Noctis pulled rank for no godforsaken reason, which was more often than anyone would like), Gladiolus bowed exaggeratedly and opened the door for them. Prompto and Noctis scurried on ahead while Gladiolus and Ignis stayed back. Out in the open air, Noctis turned around to bid farewell to the servants that helped him get this far. Also, coincidentally, the only friends he had in the world.

“Don’t worry, guys,” he said flippantly, bouncing from foot to foot to emphasize the swish of his skirt. “I’ll be fine. And if anything happens, Prompto’s here to protect me, yeah? He’s got my back.”

After being elbowed in the ribs, Prompto forced a salute and a, “Yes sir! Or…madam…or…miss? I mean…uh…”

Gladiolus chuckled humorlessly. He crossed his beefy arms, eyeing the hapless pair with a look of finality. “Right.”

Ignis bounced his eyebrows. Seeing how totally uncomfortable Prompto was in this situation, he wondered why he ever thought the blond’s presence would make any difference at all. 

But, better to send them off with a vote of confidence. “Consider all our fears assuaged, young Masters,” Ignis intoned grandly. 

“Bye, now!” Prompto cried.

As they stumbled away, Noctis grabbed Prompto’s arm and latched his wrist around his friend’s elbow in a viselike grip. An imitation of a gentleman and lady out for a stroll. Small punishment for forgetting exactly what he was there to do. 

“You’re my escort, got it?” the young lord hissed. “So escort me.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, man…” Prompto whispered back. “You’re too intense sometimes, you know that?” 

Ignis and Gladiolus watched the pair disappear down the road. It was hardly the first time they watched their charge walk off to certain doom. And it would definitely not be the last. 

“Out of our hands now,” Gladiolus mused. 

“Quite.” Ignis crunched the gravel under his foot, lost in thought.

Breaking out into a small smile, Gladiolus sauntered over to Ignis. “Ready to get back to work? Or do you want to hear the other choices I had in mind?” 

At that, Ignis decided to leave Noctis’s welfare in the capable (if capricious) hands of fate. There were suddenly more pressing issues to attend to.

“Hmmm…” the valet placed one hand on the footman’s shoulder. Delicately. Not overtly intimate. A soft secret. “Well. A man should hear all his options first before making any decisions.” 

Gladiolus grinned and led the way to the stables. More specifically, a hidden, abandoned stall. 

“Sounds fair to me.”

________________________________________________________________

 

 _Hammersmith, London  
_ _25 October, 1856  
_ _Monday - Afternoon_

 

Their plan was to head east, towards Hammersmith, until they came to Ravenscourt Park. Then…well, there was a part of the plan they had not shared with Ignis or Gladiolus. 

On the way, Noctis got his first taste of exposure to strangers while wearing his dress.

Walking along the Thames, Noctis and Prompto got looks from just about every passerby within a good ten yards. It was only natural, of course. The dress sold at Harrods was one of a kind. People were getting their first taste of this new fashion in broad daylight—not to mention the fact that Noctis looked positively breathtaking in the get-up. The color picked up the darkness in his hair and the crystalline sapphire of his eyes, throwing his ivory skin into contrast.

It was impossible not to notice him. 

Men and women’s gazes were drawn to the couple as they strolled. Noctis did his level best to act as casually as ever. (Prompto, meanwhile, could not stop sweating.) More than once, groups of gentlemen—those that were unaccompanied by women—would stop and tip their hats in Noctis’s direction. A knee-jerk reaction when someone encountered a beauty like Noctis—or at least, the woman in the dress. Once, a middle-aged man even removed his top hat completely and bowed at the waist, seemingly overcome with the need to conduct himself properly in front of this new, dark-haired beauty.

Noctis absorbed all the attention like a kitten lapping up milk. He smiled demurely at each and every one of the men throwing glances his way. They really thought…they could not tell… They really did not know that they were hitting on a man. A member of their same gender!

Noctis almost burst out laughing several times. He could not have been in higher spirits. So far, this was more fun than he could ever expect!

Not to mention, the sheer visceral wonder of walking around in a petticoat and gown. The hemline of his skirt hovered daringly close to the ground, swaying harder when Noctis waggled his hips as he walked. A few times, when he waggled his hips in that way—something he had seen women his own age do every so often, when they were at their most coquettish—Noctis turned around to find gaggles of men simply staring. Right in the area of his backside. Unashamedly, almost! Except for the fact that they turned around immediately when Noctis caught them staring.

It was his first encounter with The Eyes. He did not know what else to call that look. The gaze of men who saw something they liked. Something they might even want.

Noctis was sure he had looked at women like that in the past. Even when he was just out with Prompto, pointing out a particularly noteworthy girl. But this time…this was the first time that gaze was directed at _him_.

It fed into a vicious cycle. Noctis found himself exhilarated by The Eyes, flushing from head to toe in the beginning (instinctively insulted at first), and then…coming up short of breath. 

These men _wanted_ him. And they didn’t even know!

That was funny, wasn’t it? Noctis had to laugh behind his hand to keep from losing it. And yet, also…there was something more than that. The breeze between his legs. Noctis found himself waggling his hips more and more, just to draw The Eyes like a magnet. When he walked like that, the breeze between his legs kicked up. More intense than ever. Enough that Noctis could feel light puffs of air drifting as high as his thighs. And in between. 

He gasped the first time he felt it. Not prepared. A light tint of redness came to his cheeks and he looked around frantically to see if anyone noticed.

Sure enough, there was a man standing on a street corner. Giving him The Eyes. Noctis met his gaze and was suddenly frozen. 

“…You okay, buddy?” Prompto whispered, coming to a halt when Noctis’s body locked up. 

Noctis’s gut reaction was to end all this nonsense, run up to the guy staring at him and punch him in the face. Had he seen? Did he know that underneath all these layers, all the wires and petticoats, Noctis was getting…hard? That every time the breeze reached as high as his knees, Noctis felt a distinctive throbbing sensation in the apex of his manhood. That he was actually turned on by walking down the street in a dress—

So yeah. Noctis wanted to punch the guy’s lights out to erase any evidence of that notion. It was an automatic response—he wasn’t a pervert or anything! And this guy was probably on to him…

…But then, how could that man (a lower class factory worker from the looks of him) ever know? The crinoline hid everything. Ignis made sure that Noctis’s disguise was flawless, down to the last detail. This guy had no idea what was going on in Noctis’s drawers right now.

No one did. And no one ever had to.

Instantly relieved as soon as he remembered that irrefutable fact, Noctis simply blinked demurely and scurried away with Prompto. He would never see that guy again. By all rights, Noctis was the one winning in the end. Because he was the only one who knew the whole truth! These men were getting their rocks off looking at another man!

Oh, damn. Noctis wished he knew their names. He would have enough blackmail material for the rest of his life (as long as he left out the part about his own little…predicament). But sadly, no. This hilarious scene was meant for Noctis only. 

Encouraged by the promise of a completely hidden boner, Noctis learned to use the energy building inside him to make his walk even more feminine. Channelling his newfound interest to get more attention, more whispers from the women and low whistles from the men. 

The envy of all. Eyes glued to his every step. None the wiser about the reality of Noctis’s identity even as they wiped the drool from their faces.

…Besides, it wasn’t like Noctis was actually _turned on_ by any of this. Not at all! Only, the breeze down there was a little distracting because he’d never had it before. So, this awkward hard-on was just kind of naturally there. The same way it showed up every morning when Noctis got out of bed. Rising with the sun, startled by the breeze. Not because walking around like this meant anything. He had a normal guy’s dick.

And if Noctis loved being the center of attention—having everyone’s eyes on him—then…well, he tucked that idea away somewhere. No reason to think about that now. 

“This is kind of weird, Noct…” Prompto muttered as they rounded the corner of King Street and came to Ravenscourt Park. “…How are you doing?”

“I’m great!” Noctis claimed. “Never better! Did you see the look on those guys’ faces?”

“Um, yeah. I…did.” 

He did? Noctis glanced back at his friend. Then why wasn’t he laughing? 

They headed into the park. Finally, Prompto dropped his arm and this time, Noctis let it happen. Right on schedule, it was time for the last part of the plan.

“You sure you’re going to be okay in here by yourself?” the blond man asked nervously, eyeing Noctis with a serious face. “I don’t know. Now that we’re here, actually doing this, it kind of feels like…”

“Like what?” Noctis demanded. It was hard for him not to feel a little betrayed by the way Prompto was acting. He had been all for this when they talked about it together. What changed? 

Prompto opened his mouth to speak, then quickly closed it and shook his head. “I don’t know. But just…you sure?” 

The whalebone material in the corset was starting to chafe against the young lord’s chest and hips. 

Noctis sighed loudly. “Of course I’m sure. It’s just for an hour, right? You’ll pick me up as soon as you get back from the Aurum place. Two hours tops.” 

Sky blue eyes clouding over, Prompto licked his lips. In the end, all he said was, “…Yeah, that’s right.”

“Go on.” Noctis nudged Prompto away, in the direction of Miss Aurum’s house. “Go show your new girlfriend how good you look in a proper suit. She’s gonna love that shiny hat on you.” 

“Hey, come on…” Prompto swatted Noctis’s hand. He was beginning to come back to life, lighting up at the mention of Miss Aurum. “She’s not my girlfriend…”

“Yet.” Noctis threw his friend one of his most mischievous smiles. 

It never failed to do the trick. Prompto broke into a smile of his own and knocked his friend’s shoulder—a little harder than last time. 

“Alright.” The blond shrugged and started turning away. “If this is what you want, then…I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”

“Yep. That’s the plan.” Noctis tugged his bonnet closer to his face and waved goodbye. He decided that he would not watch Prompto as he left. Instead, he just walked deeper into the park. 

Alone.

Noctis _had_ to try it. He’d been dying to do it since this idea first struck him that morning at Harrods—he needed to know what it felt like to walk around as a single woman in society. A beauty, nonetheless, but. That was almost beside the point. Noctis had to find out if being gussied up and alone was really the freeing experience he thought it would be.

That was the true goal in all of this: Freedom. Noctis wanted to do whatever the hell he wanted, when he wanted. If he wanted to walk around as a woman, then he would do it. Show everyone that their bullshit rules and expectations meant nothing. Noctis would do the shit that they said you shouldn’t. Because…he had to!

So. Time to strike out on his own. Head high, hips waggling, Noctis strutted through the center of Ravenscourt Park. 

The leaves were turning. In fact, most of them had already turned. Such was the season. Fall and its colors. Noctis always wished he appreciated the sight of yellowing leaves as much as the rest of the world seemed to. Poems and paintings and all that, focused on how beautiful the trees looked in the middle of autumn. But Noctis couldn’t say he found it fascinating at all. 

Really, these were just the remnants. The leftovers from spring and summer withering and fading. Noctis had no love for the straggling bits of things. He wanted the heart of nature—the life; the beating, verdant truth. He was a summer baby. And his disposition showed it.

There was a fountain in the middle of the commons. Noctis gracefully made his way over to it. The day was brisk but Noctis was getting a little warm in the many layers of his new attire. Possibly because of how…riled up he had gotten a few moments ago. There was still some heat trapped in the folds of his garments, generated by his own excitement. Perhaps he should splash some water on his face.

The moment Noctis dipped his hand in the water, he heard a voice addressing him from behind. A man’s voice. Velvety and deep. Like thick molasses paste dripping over the edge of a table. Sticky, sweet, suspended in midair as long as nature would allow.

“Going for a swim?”

Noctis whirled around to face the man. He was met with the sight of a stranger—a gentleman in a dark gray frock coat and cream-colored shirtwaist. His frock was long, uncommonly so, past his calves even. His hair was dark red in color. Wine spilled from a carafe. 

And his eyes? Gold leaf stretched over a marble veneer. Unsettling. They stopped Noctis dead in his tracks.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, if I may be so bold as to offer my own advice,” the man continued. “It’ll be quite difficult to swim in that lovely muslin thing you’re wearing.” 

The man held his hand out to the side, gesturing to nothing, and took a step towards Noctis. Sensing danger right away, Noctis thought to answer him instead of standing dumbly in the middle of the commons.

“I’m not…going swimming, obviously. Just admiring the fountain,” Noctis retorted. He remembered at the last second to raise the tone of his voice several octaves. Enough to pass for the woman he appeared to be. 

He also kept his eyes on the man’s hands. The skin there was a shade darker than the man’s face and neck. A sure sign of manual labor in his past. Plus, he appeared unshaven and not particularly well-groomed all around. But he was wearing a top hat and six piece suit. The sign of the gentry class. 

Who was this man? Where exactly did he fit in the echelons of London? 

“Ah, I see.” The mysterious man took another step forward. Noctis did not want to move back—he did not like the idea of conceding ground to another man. “Well then, shall we both admire the beauty these marvelous gardens have to offer?” 

The man’s golden eyes flashed. He gave Noctis a look that was something like The Eyes—but exponentially more deadly. A direct hit. Hungry. The look of a bear salivating over a pot of honey. 

“Although, I must admit, I’ve already done a fair bit of admiring just in the time I’ve been standing here.” 

To prove his point, the man’s eyes strayed from Noctis’s face down to his bust. And then lower. Inching ever so slowly down the rest of Noctis’s waist, the wide skirt covering his legs. (There was no way he saw, no way he could know about the lingering stiffness underneath—!) All the way down to Noctis’s feet.

That’s it. Time to go. This man’s intentions were clear as day. Noctis needed to leave now before this encounter got any more inappropriate. 

And yet, Noctis stayed.


	2. The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a conversation. Noctis can definitely handle that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so remember when I said I wasn't planning on longfic? Why do I even bother saying that anymore. T__T Added another chapter because...do I even have a reason...
> 
> Here's some more stuff!

_Ravenscourt Park, London  
_ _25 October, 1856  
_ _Monday - Afternoon_

 

He could have walked away if he wanted to. Noctis knew that. Even in a dress, Noctis was confident enough that he could outrun any middle-aged man this side of the Atlantic. 

…And he wouldn’t even need to _run_ , anyway. It wasn’t like he was in any actual danger. This man (this stranger, really) just wanted to talk. That was what men did with women, on the street anyway. They _talked_. 

This was truly the authentic female experience. Harassment in the form of unasked for conversation—with a clearly sexual edge. Noctis had been looking for this kind of experience, hadn’t he? A view from the other side of things? 

Why not see where it went. 

It would be fun.

“Pardon me,” the man said suddenly, bringing his eyes back up to Noctis’s face. “Your stunned silence tells me I might have been a bit too forward just now. My sincerest apologies.” 

Still smiling (that smirk seemed permanently plastered to this man’s face), the gentleman took a polite step backward and removed his top hat. Extraneous red hairs clung to the velvet and danced wildly in the breeze. This man sported an unkempt mop of unfashionably long locks (especially for a man of his apparent station). Regardless, he held his top hat to his chest and bowed demurely from the waist.

“Ardyn Izunia is my name,” he announced. High and bright, suddenly all manners. “A man of no real consequence. At your service, madam.” 

When he looked up again, his golden eyes were wide and expectant. Almost innocent. A complete switch from the lascivious stare he had given Noctis a moment ago. Now this man—Ardyn, evidently, he was called, though who had ever heard the name Izunia? Was that even a real surname, or had he just made something up on the spot?—was the picture of unassuming congeniality. 

It seemed he was a man of many faces.

Noctis rolled the name over in his head a few times. Ardyn Izunia. Well, for fuck’s sake, Izunia couldn’t be a real name. Noctis knew the name of almost every highbred family in town (he had to, because of his father’s position). Not once had he come across anyone from an ‘Izunia’ household. Nor anyone named Ardyn, for that matter. Was this guy even from London? Or was he an out-of-towner trying to make a name in the capital, quite a few years too late judging by his age—

“May I ask for your name in return?” Ardyn tilted his head to one side. A ghost of his former smirk returned to his lips. “Miss…?” 

Oh….right. Noctis’s palms started to sweat as he realized that in all of this, he had never actually come up with a fake name for himself. Something feminine. He hadn’t thought he would need to—since he never imagined speaking to someone while wearing this get-up.

So he decided to stall for time while he thought of something. 

Clearing his throat quietly, (making it easier to speak in a high voice), Noctis curtseyed respectfully to Ardyn. Sure enough, the curtsey sent a thrill of excitement up his spine. Another layer to the disguise.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Izunia,” Noctis intoned in what he hoped was a simpering fashion. 

How hilarious would it be to egg this guy on, the young lord thought suddenly. Get Ardyn thinking that he was actually making headway with a lady only to put him on ice at the very end with some offhand comment. Or by simply walking away. String the bastard along and then cut the ties! 

Noctis figured he could do that without a problem. The coupes de gras on his limited whirlwind tour as a female. 

Now, If only he could think of a convincing name for himself.

“I am Miss….” Noctis faltered. 

He could say Argentum. But it was such a middle-class name. He could say Scientia or Amicitia, more than passable, and relatively unheard of. He could even say fucking Smith if he wanted to, what the hell difference did it make, not like he needed to come up with anything brand new or even something clever—!

“Miss, ah….Caelum. Miss Caelum.”

Fucking hell! His real name came out. Well, his father always did say Noctis lacked in brains what he made for with a quick mouth. But unfortunately there were times when his mouth did not work in tandem with his brain. Like now, for example.

Ardyn made a soft sound like he was impressed. “Miss Caelum, thank you, the pleasure is all mine. And in fact, I believe your name is known to me.”

Panic filtered through Noctis’s system. He could have said anything, literally _anything_ else. _Why_ did he say Caelum? Shit, Noctis might need to get away sooner rather than later…

“Caelum…Caelum…” Ardyn thought for a moment, fingers on his scraggly chin. Then his eyes flashed as he landed on an answer. “Ah, yes, Caelum! Of Lord Regis Caelum’s household, correct?” 

Noctis unconsciously tugged his bonnet closer to his chin. Averting his eyes. “Lord Regis is…family, yes…” he said weakly. 

Oh god. Ignis was going to kill him for this.

“Distant cousin perhaps?” Ardyn guessed. His hands were out in a shrug. “Because it was my understanding that Lord Regis had no female relatives of marrying age.” 

At the words ‘marrying age,’ Noctis realized that perhaps—maybe, just maybe—this was not going to go the way he planned. Marriage meaning…Ardyn thought…? 

Yup, time to go.

“Well. Good day, sir.” Noctis gathered his skirts and hurried to his right. Not quite running, but trying to make a quick escape before Ardyn sussed out any more information.

He found his way blocked by a sudden looming figure, both hands on his hat in the most apologetic manner. Ardyn had dashed in front of Noctis as soon as he saw him move. Effectively thwarting the young lord’s escape. Angry, Noctis tried to move to his left, but Ardyn quickly sidestepped to block him again. Then the stranger launched into a long tirade that Noctis had no choice but to listen to (unless he actually wanted to fight this guy, which…considering that Ardyn was a good two heads taller than him and bulky in size, and that Noctis was encumbered by cage crinoline and a corset, didn’t seem like the best idea).

“My mistake, my mistake!” Ardyn quipped, chuckling softly to ease the tension. “There’s always a chance my memory has failed me once more. You see, Miss, when you get to be my age, small facts and tidbits of information swing in and out of grasp. A frustrating cross to bear that comes with the dignity of age.”

Ardyn took a step back, possibly because of the icy daggers Noctis was glaring in his direction. He increased the distance between them, hands up innocently, giving Noctis another chance to leave if he wanted.

“Besides,” Ardyn continued while Noctis considered his next move. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you, my mind has been entirely out of sorts. I’m still catching up, I’m afraid.” 

“Tch.” Noctis crossed his arms over his chest. An undignified thing for a lady to do, but…

…He had to admit. Those words piqued his ego just the way Noctis liked. It was funny thinking about Ardyn—some old dude who was one hell of a smooth talker no matter how you looked at it—trying to keep up with _him._ Forgetting about walking away for a moment, Noctis wanted to throw something back in this man’s face. It was a natural reaction in times like this (for the young lord anyway, who was used to turning the tables when given the opportunity).

“Hope you don’t tire yourself out, sir, trying to keep your wits about you.” Flashing Ardyn a cocky grin, Noctis added, “Remember to pace yourself.” 

At that, Ardyn reared his head ever so slightly. He looked taken aback, but his persistent smile betrayed the fact that he was honestly intrigued by such a remark. 

“I will do my best, Miss Caelum,” he answered. Golden eyes twinkling with some unnatural glare. “In the meantime, I beg your patience.” 

Noctis huffed a small laugh. Those eyes were just the same as the ones the other men were giving him all day. Yeah, they were the same. If slightly more…captivating. When Noctis made eye contact with this man, he found it difficult to look away for some reason. 

Ardyn’s eyes pierced him. Not to the core, of course, Noctis still felt protected by layers upon layers of clothing and crinoline. But they ensnared him nonetheless. When Noctis thought about struggling, about darting away to the safety of his own home, retreating to the confines of his normal gender…he suddenly didn’t want to. Ardyn was _interesting_. If Noctis walked away now, he would be going back to his drab regular life. Missing out on whatever _this_ was. 

Because he could not remember ever meeting a man like Ardyn before. One who spoke with the same sort of mesmerizing lilt, who could at once be so shameless and yet fall back on propriety like donning a worn coat. 

“Of course, I’m sure you’re aware…” Ardyn began again. His tone slid up and down. Slowly. In no hurry to arrive at the point. “…of the effect you have on people? No doubt you encounter gaping mouths and wandering eyes wherever you go.” 

An image reel of all the faces he’d received today spun through Noctis’s mind. He certainly was getting a lot of attention. 

…Not that he minded. Some resurgent heat flared in the pit of Noctis’s stomach. And slightly lower. 

“Quite so,” he answered. He looked away for a moment, trying to create a semblance of bashfulness where in fact there was none. 

Ardyn’s lips curled. He nodded in understanding. “Naturally. It’s not every day one encounters a young lady with your unique radiance. And dressed in such finery!” He gestured foppishly with one hand to the purple muslin dress. “Your suitor must be head over heels for you to impart a gift of this magnitude.”

Hearing the implication, Noctis frowned. No matter what, he did want to come across as someone already spoken for! He was a free entity, even in this bizarre fantasy he’d cooked up.

“Suitor?” Noctis sniffed indifferently. “There is no suitor, sir. Not for me.”

“No?” Ardyn’s eyebrows shot way up. But his smile stayed firmly in place. “Consider me shocked. I would have thought your family wise enough to waste no time offering your hand. Gentlemen would queue up for the chance, no doubt.”

Pride bubbled up in Noctis’s chest. Of course he’d have guys from here to Timbuktu trying to get at him, if he were a real woman! He’d get to pick whoever he wanted, too. As many as he liked. Why settle for just one, after all? (Again, if any of this were real…)

Smirking, Noctis remained defiant. “My hand is where it needs to be. No ring to weigh it down, no promises to keep. As I like it.” 

Ardyn hummed deep in his chest. If they had been standing just slightly farther apart, Noctis might not have even heard the sound. But as it was, Noctis equated that hum with the purr of a jungle cat. Content and heavy. Unbridled. 

“I see,” Ardyn noted. “Well then. That gentleman you arrived with—the yellow-haired boy in the ill-fitting suit? Forgive me, I could not help noticing.”

Prompto. Noctis was surprised that Ardyn had been watching him even that long, ever since he came into the park, it seemed, but. Not that it mattered. 

“What of him?” 

Ardyn shrugged one shoulder conversationally. “Is he a sweetheart of yours, perhaps?” 

Hearing that, Noctis nearly guffawed. Prompto, his best friend, a _sweetheart_? No way in hell! Prompto was a good guy, but Noctis knew that in this costume, when he looked this good, he could definitely do better. Prompto barely put one foot in front of the other without tripping over the cobblestone most days. That said, Noctis loved him like a brother, but no. Noctis’s female counterpart—this woman he was becoming little by little—could aim a little higher than Prompto. 

Sputtering an improper laugh, Noctis shook his head and waved his hand at the idea. “Definitely not, sir. He’s a friend by any stretch of the imagination.” (His or mine, Noctis wanted to add, but he didn’t want to badmouth Prompto behind his back. Not _too_ much.)

Ardyn bowed his head politely. His smile edged on gleeful at this point. “You’ll have to forgive me again, Miss Caelum, for any untoward implication. In my day, a man and woman did not walk that close to each other unless they were courting.” 

“Hmph.” Noctis imagined that was true. “Well. Times have changed, Mr. Izunia.”

“So it would seem!” Ardyn gestured with his top hat to the rest of Ravenscourt Park. “An uncompromising beauty such as yourself is out for a stroll around town. Unaccompanied no less! And untethered, for all intents and purposes.” 

His eyes swept over Noctis from head to toe once more. “The times are not what they used to be, I can assure you. On a personal note, my own good fortune has just gone up by a factor of ten at least.” 

If this strange man kept going like this, Noctis thought, then maybe Noctis could learn to roll with that look. Those roaming eyes. Trying to devour him.

Really, though, what could this man possibly do to him? Noctis wondered. If he knew the truth underneath the disguise, surely Ardyn would turn on his heels. Muttering and angry, possibly even a little disgusted. With himself of course. That he had been unknowingly hitting on another man for so long. 

Noctis’s feathery eyebrows twitched as he considered that. It kind of pissed him off to think of Ardyn stomping away once he got to the bottom of all this. Noctis could not exactly put a finger on why, but it was annoying. Like when it rained in the middle of a pheasant hunt and you had to go back empty-handed. Disappointment. Stopping a game before a winner had been declared.

Oh well. Not like Ardyn would ever figure out the truth. They were still standing in the middle of Ravenscourt Park. Just talking. 

Talking and talking. 

What was supposed to happen now? Uncertainty crept up the back of Noctis’s neck. What happened when they were finished talking? An upstanding gentleman might ask a lady if it would be appropriate for him to escort her home. Or he might ask if she would mind spending an afternoon with him another day, calling on her properly where she lived. Where he would be subject to the will of her family, and the regular order of things…

But Ardyn? In this situation? 

It begged the question where exactly any of this was going. And how long Noctis could keep up the charade.

“So, you say you’re here to admire the gardens?” Ardyn asked after a beat. Keeping the conversation going.

Noctis rocked back on his heels. Slightly uncomfortable—the dress was getting kind of heavy after a few hours. “Yes, the fountain. I did say.”

Sighing contentedly, Ardyn looked around the park. “Well you picked a wonderful afternoon. Such splendor this time of year.” 

He slowly affixed his top hat back on his head. Then, he turned his body and indicated a park bench sitting across the way. “Might we have a seat and enjoy the nature together?” 

Noctis glanced between Ardyn and the park bench a few times. He really did want to sit down. Just to take the load off his feet for a moment or two. (He should have practiced wearing the full get-up before today, he realized. His hips and calves hurt from bearing the weight of all the muslin, wool, whalebone, and reeds.)

So, Noctis nodded politely. “Very well.” 

He folded his hands together in the middle of his waist—a quintessential ladylike habit—and made to start walking. Once again, Ardyn blocked his path. This time with a crooked elbow held invitingly in front of Noctis’s chest. 

“Won’t you let me escort you, Miss Caelum?” 

Ardyn’s eyes gleamed, but his posture was far from threatening. Off kilter, one leg back as was the old fashioned custom. They had been talking long enough now that Noctis felt if he said no Ardyn would let the matter drop. He was painfully polite at the end of every statement, so far. And they were not that close to each other that Noctis felt intimidated…

Plus, it was slightly flattering. For a gentleman to offer his arm like he would to a lady he wanted to pass time with. Maybe a little more than slightly.

Noctis raised his hands to accept the arm. 

Before he laid his hand on Ardyn’s elbow, Noctis looked up to meet the older man’s gaze. Sure enough, Ardyn was staring at him. Those eyes, that smile. Unflinching. Not quite daring Noctis to accept, but very nearly. As if to say, ‘Come now. Don’t be shy.’ 

Heat radiated off Ardyn’s arm. When Noctis finally laid his hands on the man, he had to fight back a shiver. Ardyn was warm! And his arm was…formidable. Flesh pressed against the thin cloth of his frock coat, implying a layer of firm muscle underneath. Not obvious, cut muscle like the kind Gladiolus sported. But still. Ardyn was insulated with hard-working strength earned from some type of strenuous activity. Labor perhaps, like his rough, sun-darkened hands hinted at…

“Thank you, my lady. Shall we?” 

Saying nothing, Noctis followed Ardyn’s lead across the park. His stomach twisted in knots, feeling kind of unsettled. He glanced around and noticed that a few people were watching them idly. Men and women. Not the same looks as before. Where earlier Noctis had seen admiration and lust, now he saw jealousy on the faces of the men. And dark curiosity from the women.

“Pay them no mind, my dear,” Ardyn whispered. 

His lips were suddenly extremely close to Noctis’s ear. The bonnet covered Noctis’s ears and the side of his cheek, so he could not feel the man’s breath, but even so. Noctis could feel the warmth from the man’s uncommonly hot presence. Pressing against the side of his arm. Intimately close—in a way Noctis had not expected. So quickly…

“The women cannot help being envious of you,” Ardyn continued. This close, his voice came out as a low rumble. Noctis felt his arms break out into goosebumps. “The way you command attention so effortlessly. And the men? Well. I imagine there are more than a few chaps around here who might like to pick a fight with me.”

He said it so nonchalantly. As if Ardyn were merely amused by the idea of some roustabout dogging his steps. For the first time that afternoon, Noctis wondered if Ardyn might be familiar with ‘that type.’ The sort of lowlife men who prowled around town looking for trouble and a good time. Noctis had brushed up against those members of society a few times, in pubs and side alleys when he was itching for a fight, but even so. He would not call himself _comfortable_ fending off blows from a gaggle of them. Not like Ardyn, who seemed to find the whole thing amusing.

“Best stay close to me, Miss,” the older man finished with a wistful sigh. “No telling what some men might do for a chance to be in my position.”

For some reason, the presumptuousness of those words rankled Noctis. Just because he was letting Ardyn escort him through the park did not mean that Ardyn had won anything. Far from it! Noctis was still the one who held all the cards because he knew the truth behind the farce! 

“Your position?” Noctis spat, brows furrowed. He glared up at Ardyn as they walked. “What position is that?” 

Ardyn’s eyes slid back towards Noctis. He kept his face forward, offering his companion a lopsided smile in return. “Well. The one allowed—by your good graces, my lady—to be at your side at the moment. It’s a covetable position, to be sure.” 

“What’s so covetable about it?” Noctis quarreled. 

Still, when they approached a group of largely male passersby wearing similar looking bowler hats, Noctis pressed himself closer to Ardyn nonetheless. It was an automatic reaction. They were all staring at him and even though the looks drummed up a type of buzz inside him, Noctis did not need to think hard to know that he preferred Ardyn’s specific brand of attention to theirs. Ardyn was a man who could communicate his attraction through intensity and words alike. Those other men were just panting dogs by comparison.

Plus, their looks were decidedly more…shadowy than the others. As if they were interested in the woman Noctis was playing for more than just her body, but for the apparent wealth implied by her finery.

“Why, the flattery of your companionship, naturally,” Ardyn answered quickly. 

Even though they were carrying on that conversation, which had rapidly lost its meaning as soon as Noctis clung a little tighter to Ardyn’s arm, the older man was very aware of the subtle change in their situation. Casually, as if he had done this a million times before, Ardyn placed his free hand over Noctis’s. Covering the young lord’s grasp on his own arm. An amorous gesture. Like a husband would do for a wife, or lover to lover. Or else extremely close family. 

A quiet display of closeness. A sign that Ardyn had claimed ownership of Noctis in some way, and that he would fight for her honor. 

Not to mention…the heat. Ardyn’s palms were callous and hot. His hands were larger than Noctis’s own. When they touched, Noctis felt himself blushing. A familiar type of uneasiness swam through the rest of his body. When his skin prickled and his face flushed, it wasn’t hard for Noctis to put together the truth.

He liked Ardyn’s hand there. 

For no reason at all, Noctis found himself glancing at the rest of Ardyn’s body from his place at the older man’s side. A broad chest. Certainly burly underneath. A paisley patterned bowtie, the cream colored waistcoat wrapped around a surprisingly thin waist. Ardyn’s body was hard on the outside, but narrow around the edges. A body that had been worked. Clearly. 

Noctis wondered what type of work. Especially for a gentleman who knew how to behave around a lady. In a moderately expensive looking suit. 

He also wondered what Ardyn looked like underneath his clothes. Was his chest hairy, in the way that Nocts’s was not? Were his abs clearly defined? And lower…what did _that_ look like? Proportional to the rest of him or…?

“Here we are.” 

They arrived at the bench. Grasping the younger man’s hand, Ardyn delicately helped Noctis into a seat. With the movement, Noctis quickly shook his head to clear it of whatever had just been floating around in his unruly thoughts. Yeah no. Noctis might be dressed like a woman, but there was no way he was thinking about another man’s prick…especially not because the thought made him hot under the collar—because it _didn’t_. Noctis just wanted to see what Ardyn was working with because the man was such a ballsy, arrogant kind of guy. It made sense. 

Besides, it felt good to sit down. Maybe Noctis was just getting a little worn out from the day’s excitement. He smoothed the ruffles in his skirt and let his shoulders go a little slack. It wasn’t the picture of womanliness, but damn, the corset was starting to hurt his spine. It wasn’t easy keeping his back ramrod straight all day! 

When he looked again, the group of unsavory men had moved on. Successfully beaten back by whatever aura Ardyn exuded.

Noctis breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe he had fucked up somewhere thinking he could do this alone. Perhaps it was lucky that Ardyn showed up…

“Ah, so.” Ardyn cast his face to the heavens and smiled regretfully. “It seems the sun is about to call it a day. We might not have very long at all to admire our surroundings.” 

“That’s fine,” Noctis said. By mistake, his voice came out a little lower than normal. He forgot for a moment to raise it as he had been all afternoon, perhaps because of how weary he was getting.

Or maybe because he had unconsciously started to relax around Ardyn. Ever so slightly. 

Either way, Noctis quickly realized his mistake and cleared his throat to mask the error. Then he repeated, in a girly tone, “That’s fine with me.” 

Ardyn stared at Noctis curiously. Then he shrugged and took a seat next to him on the bench. They were not quite so close as before, and Noctis felt distinctly annoyed by that. Why was Ardyn pulling away now? Did he really just want someone to stop and look at the leaves with? 

Noctis really hoped not. That would be so damn boring! Why didn’t Ardyn come closer, at least so Noctis could try to pinpoint exactly what part of him radiated so much heat—

“Do you come here often? In autumn at least?” Ardyn asked. His legs sprawled out in front of him casually. To Noctis’s surprise (and secret delight), their knees bumped as a result. 

Taking it as a slight invitation, Noctis slid a hair closer to Ardyn on the bench. So that their knees were together. He thought that if anything happened, he might be able to pass the gesture off as an accident. Because otherwise it would seem far too forward (especially for a lady). But Ardyn didn’t say anything.

Shit, even the man’s knees were warm. Noctis could feel their contact through the many layers of his dress. 

He wanted to feel more, but Ardyn did not move any closer.

Pouting on the inside, Noctis looked towards the fountain. “I can’t say that I do. Today I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought it might be nice to visit the commons.” 

“Mmm, I see. But don’t you appreciate the way it looks in fall? Leaves in autumnal resplendence, and all that?” Ardyn turned his body to face Noctis, just about closing the distance between their legs. 

They were flush up against each other now. Noctis felt his heart beating very fast. He had a sudden, strange urge to squeeze Ardyn’s thigh and feel the muscle he knew would be there. Maybe leave his hand on the man’s knee like he would for a woman he was interested in—but of course, Noctis stopped himself just in time.

This was getting weird, Noctis thought. No, _he_ was getting weird. Noctis himself. Ardyn had been relatively the same this whole time, but something weird was happening to Noctis. His hands were getting sweaty. It was a kind of itchy sweatiness he had felt before. The desire to _touch._

Didn’t make any damn sense! Noctis liked fucking women! He had gotten lucky with a few young ladies in the past—quick fucks in the back alleys or a romp in the servants’ quarters—and he had enjoyed himself each time. He’d never seriously courted anyone, of course—who wanted to be tied down in a marriage proposal for god’s sake?—but he liked the easy pleasure of a few one-offs. And, as far as he knew, he always left his girls happy (if their moaning and groaning underneath him was anything to go by, which Noctis believed it was). 

And now…?

Noctis flexed his hands, trying to will away the desire to touch Ardyn. There had to be a reason for all this. Was it because he had gotten hard before, walking down the street? Was this just some lingering desire from that strange thrill? Or was it because Ardyn had technically touched him first? Given Noctis his arm and covered his fingers with his bare, gruff hand. That small gesture had unearthed a steady stream of questions and curious wants inside Noctis. 

“Hmm? No?”

Ardyn’s voice startled Noctis out of his thoughts. “Uh, what? Sorry I was…umm…”

Chuckling, Ardyn shook his head. “No need to apologize. I see you were lost in thought. And I was only asking your opinion about the nature, my lady.” 

“Oh, right.” Noctis folded his hands in his lap. The sheer muslin on his sleeves brushed against his skin and Noctis felt tiny aftershocks of sensation all along his back. Why had his skin suddenly become so sensitive? 

Did wearing a dress in public really turn him on that much? 

It was getting to the point where Noctis could not pretend this was all a coincidence. His hard-on was not going down. Not in the slightest. It throbbed persistently in his drawers, wrapped in cotton and crinoline.

Maybe Noctis really was a pervert. 

Fuck.

Forcing himself to continue this pointless conversation (because he had to at least pretend to be kind of normal, or at least his female self did), Noctis barked out a harsh reply. 

“Actually I don’t care for the view this time of year. At all, really. I think it’s simpleminded people who wax endlessly about the beautiful of autumn leaves.”

“Do you?” The surprise in Ardyn’s voice was evident. “My, that’s the first time I’ve heard that. Are the red and orange colors not to your liking?”

Noctis clicked his tongue irritably. He was getting aggravated now. His body was way too riled up for no reason and Ardyn wanted to talk about leaves. This wasn’t fun; it was just tedious. 

“No, I don’t care about the color.” Noctis crunched some of the muslin material of his skin under his fingers. Trying to ground himself. “It’s just…what is it about dying plants that people find so exciting?” 

Without missing a beat, Ardyn answered, “Well, death can be exciting in its own right.”

Noctis whipped around to face the stranger. He hadn’t imagined Ardyn would give a rebuttal like that. Nor had he expected Ardyn to be staring openly at him. As if Noctis were more interesting and captivating than any of the natural beauty around them.

“Death is a part of life, after all,” Ardyn continued. “The final part. Something we all must eventually experience but that we can’t share with anyone else. It’s natural to be curious, don’t you think?” 

“I…” Noctis stared into Ardyn’s eyes and tried to think of a meaningful response. 

Ardyn was not phased by him, Noctis realized. He did not balk at Noctis’s surliness or get tongue-tied by the presence of a beautiful noblewoman. He had an answer for everything. And he did not shy away from sharing his thoughts with a woman. 

Noctis liked that. He…didn’t know why.

“Moreover,” Ardyn continued. “Many people have different opinions about death. Not all of them inherently negative. Death, they say, is a revelation. An encounter with the great unknown. A pinnacle of understanding, if you will.”

The ends of his lips twisted into curls. “By the way, do you speak any French?” 

“A little. Why?” In far recesses of his mind, Noctis registered a desire to put his head on Ardyn’s shoulder and listen to this strange man talk about death. 

Okay, yeah. There was definitely something wrong with him.

“Well, there’s a rather modern term they use to refer to a specific kind of experience. _La petit mort._ Have you heard the expression?” 

Noctis knew enough that he could translate the words in his head. The little death. “Doesn’t that mean, like, fainting or something?”

Ardyn’s grin widened. “In a sense, yes. But, quite recently, people have begun to use it to describe the feeling of having a very intense orgasm.”

At first, Noctis thought he’d heard wrong. Then he went over the words again in his head and realized…yeah, that’s what Ardyn was talking about.

The word ‘orgasm,’ flying out of Ardyn’s mouth as easily as the word ‘hello,’ made Noctis turn a new shade of pink. His stomach did a flip and he wondered, was Ardyn used to giving his lovers intense experiences like that? Was he used to having them himself? Also what did it mean ‘intense,’ exactly? 

Angry with himself for reacting like a virgin would, Noctis huffed. “That can’t be true. Having an…orgasm is nothing like dying. Are you sure it’s not a joke?” 

“No, it’s fairly accurate in fact,” Ardyn countered. “Though I suppose not every sexual experience gives the same impression.” He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “But I believe the term refers to that sort of winded feeling you get right after coming—you know, when everything rushes to your head and you feel like you might faint?”

Noctis snorted a rather unladylike laugh. “What are you _talking_ about?” 

Ardyn blinked slowly. “Has that never happened to you?” 

“Of course not!” Noctis had enjoyed each and every one of his sexual encounters in the past, but he’d never felt like he might pass out right after coming. Maybe people only felt that when they were high on opium or something. “I don’t believe that’s a real thing…”

Ardyn gestured outward, towards nothing. “I assure you it is. And relatively common, as well. I find it disturbing that you’ve never experienced such a sensation.” 

He leaned in, bringing his face close to Noctis’s. Less than an arm’s length away. If either of them desired, they could reach out and touch the other. On the face or on the shoulders. Once more, Noctis found himself ensnared by the alluring look in this man’s golden eyes. It was not an overbearing look—really it was more curious than anything. Fascinated. And _hungry_.

There was a pit of hunger right in the center of Ardyn’s gaze. Noctis could see it, and feel it himself. More than just plain need, there was also deep enjoyment. Like Ardyn thrived on this kind of excitement.

Noctis, with his cock desperately attempting to jump out of his dress, and his eyes fixed squarely on Ardyn, was no match for a gaze like that. 

“Of course, that’s not to say that you’ll never have such an experience.” Ardyn hesitantly brought his hand up to Noctis’s face. Slowly, showing the young ‘lady’ his every move, he swept the black bangs out of her eyes and tucked them carefully back into her bonnet. 

The older man smiled. “It might even be well within your reach, I think.” 

Pinpricks of arousal filtered through Noctis’s system. When Ardyn pulled his hand away, Noctis fought the urge to follow those fingers and press them against his lips. There were tan, large, and rough, but surprisingly gentle. Barely even touching Noctis, even though they could probably do harm if they so desired. Noctis wanted to feel much more. 

He wondered what those fingers would feel like on other parts of his body. Not just his forehead, but also his cheeks. His neck. His arms. His chest, where his pectorals were straining against the chemisette and awkward silverware pillows. Maybe further down. On that aching part of him that had been burning for some time now—

“Oh, my dear,” Ardyn’s voice had lowered an octave or two. Dangerously dark, but Noctis didn’t care. “The eyes you’re giving me right now. Do you have any idea what that look might do to a man?” 

A smile crossed Noctis’s lips as he imagined Ardyn was in a similar predicament to his own.He glanced downward and saw that, yes, there was indeed a noticeable thickness pressing against the inseam of Ardyn’s trousers. It filled Noctis with a crazy feeling: Joy. He was so insanely happy to see that Ardyn was turned on right now. Ready. For…?

At the last moment, Noctis forced himself to remember that there was another man’s cock in those trousers. Looking for equipment that Noctis just didn’t have. Not only that, this was all supposed to be a charade! A game, a big laugh at Ardyn’s expense! Never once had Noctis considered going all the way and yielding to whatever this stranger wanted.

And he _couldn’t_. Underneath the dress, Noctis did not have the body that Ardyn desired. 

“Hmm.” Ardyn’s hand returned. This time, he brushed the back of his forefinger down Noctis’s cheek. When he reached the younger man’s lips, he paused. “I think you know, don’t you, Miss Caelum? The yearning you inspire in men like me?” 

“Umm…” Those words twisted in Noctis’s heart. Not just his heart. Everywhere. Every word out of Ardyn’s mouth snaked across Noctis’s body, seeking out some new sensitive part of him to prod and tease. The things Noctis wanted to say in return died on his lips.

So much for his quick mouth. “Yeah, but…” he said dumbly. 

“Let me ask you,” Ardyn proceeded, ignoring Noctis’s weak protests. “Do you have any vital plans for the rest of the evening? And by vital, I mean potentially life threatening? Something utterly crucial that you cannot otherwise ignore?” 

This was the part where Noctis needed to come up with some excuse. Someone coming to get him, a man waiting for him at home, _anything_ … This was his way out!

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Ardyn leaned in again and pressed a soft, closed-mouth kiss to Noctis’s cheek. Nothing lewd. There was no tongue, no dominating force behind the kiss. It was just a gentle touching of the older man’s lips to Noctis’s tender skin—

But that kiss set Noctis on fire. 

He broke out in shivers. The flyaway hairs from Ardyn’s red mane brushed Noctis’s skin, sending aftershocks through the rest of him. The shivers refused to stop. A whirlwind of desire swept Noctis away. His eyes locked on Ardyn’s lips. He wanted to be kissed again. They were so close! He wanted to taste that mouth. Feel the soft, masked strength of those lips on his own. Explore with his tongue. Maybe bite them little, like he had always wanted to do with his women during sex but never could because he was afraid of hurting them or turning them off. Maybe Ardyn would let Noctis take his time. Really kiss him. Thoroughly, until neither of them could breathe.

Ardyn was not smiling anymore. But his eyes were alight with victory. When he leaned in again, Noctis knew, he would kiss him on the lips. He could see it in the man’s face. He could almost feel it—and Noctis knew it would be good.

Just as their lips began to brush, Noctis got a strong whiff of Ardyn’s manly scent. Spicy cologne, old satin, and the musk that clung to a man’s body after a day spent walking around town. An unmistakably male odor.

It made Noctis want to melt into a puddle at this man’s feet. To be carried to the nearest closed space and—whatever they were supposed to do next—

But it also made Noctis remember the reality of the situation. Sure, Ardyn had done a hell of a job wooing Noctis’s female impersonation. But the real Noctis was a young lord, a man of high birth who had undertaken all of this just to prove that he could.

They were both men. That was the real truth.

Shocked and suddenly scared (how had he let things get this far?!), Noctis pushed against Ardyn’s chest. He shoved the older man out of his face, holding him back with both hands. Though Ardyn was not fighting him. 

“Whoa, whoa, hang on!” Noctis spoke in his normal voice. No hint of the feminine tone he had been feigning all this time. “Wait, dude…I’m a—I’m not actually…” 

Ardyn’s gaze narrowed. Like a man staring hard at a painting to see some hidden image.

Panting hard, Noctis tried to gather his wits. He brought his voice down to a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. They were relatively alone at the moment. 

“I’m…a guy, okay?” To demonstrate, Noctis pulled back his bonnet to show his closely cropped hair. When Ardyn continued staring, Noctis turned to the side and tugged one of the silverware pillows loose. Just enough to show that it was a clear imitation. 

Ardyn’s eyebrows shot up. All the way to his hairline. His mouth parted down the middle, hanging slightly open. He clearly had not been expecting that. But at least now he knew the truth.

“I’m a guy. …Sorry.” 

Noctis didn’t know why he added the apology at the end. Just that…he was feeling kind of sheepish. Still a little scared. What would Ardyn do now that he knew? Would he want to get in a row? Maybe slap Noctis across the face for deceiving him? Maybe spit on him for being some strange pervert who traipsed across town in a dress? Some other…horrible thing?

He was dizzy, too. Even though the truth was out, Noctis could not help staring at Ardyn’s lips. He still wanted to know what they tasted like—and he had been just a hair’s breadth away! Now he’d never get the chance. The illusion was dead and Noctis needed to go back to his normal life. If Ardyn would even let him leave in one piece after this.

Blushing, feeling like he might start crying for some reason (not here, damn it! He at least had to wait until he got home; then he could cry and jack off all he wanted. Or whatever), Noctis adjusted his fake bust and bonnet. Reassembling himself so he could walk home in the disguise.

He didn’t want to look Ardyn in the eye again. Maybe he couldn’t. 

Sniffing hard, limbs shaking, Noctis made to stand up. His plan was to just walk away at this point. Crawl back to his comfort zone and try to pretend none of this ever happened—

Ardyn grabbed his wrist. Stopping Noctis in his tracks.

Honestly frightened, the young lord gaped at Ardyn and thought about pulling away with all his might. But when he saw Ardyn’s face, he forgot everything.

Ardyn was smiling. As lascivious and honest as before. That wide, hungry look in his eyes. Just as wild as before. If not more so.

“Well,” the older man began. He grasped Noctis’s hand. Gently, this time. Lacing their fingers together like lovers. “I’ll admit, that was unexpected.”

Noctis stared down at their entwined hands. He could not imagine what was going on in Ardyn’s mind at this moment, but he was mesmerized by the feel of him. The toughness of Ardyn’s skin was muted slightly when he moved so delicately. Noctis wanted to squeeze and stroke the backs of those leathery hands with his own fingers.

“But,” Ardyn continued. “It’s six of one, half a dozen of the other. Isn’t it?”

“…Huh?” Noctis blinked. His wits failing him once more.

Chuckling, Ardyn closed his eyes and quickly rose to his feet. He brought Noctis along with him. “Back to the matter at hand, shall I call us a carriage?”

Before Noctis could say anything in reply, Ardyn was raising the young man’s hand to his arm, wrapping it around his elbow, and tugging him along. They strode across the park as before—Ardyn as escort, Noctis as the female companion. But this time, Ardyn moved notably faster. Noctis needed to break into a half run in order to keep up.

“Uh, what…?” the younger man asked as they moved. His mind was reeling. He clutched Ardyn’s elbow for dear life as he found himself being whisked away to who knew where. “…carriage?”

If only his brain could work long enough to get out a coherent sentence. Noctis would have appreciated that. 

“Yes, darling, a carriage.” Ardyn held tightly to Noctis’s hand, telegraphing to anyone who might happen to see them that Noctis was indeed his. No mistaking it this time. “It’s the fastest way to my residence in Kingston upon Thames.” 

“Your…?” Noctis heard the words. They processed slowly. 

Ardyn wanted to take him home? Even after…knowing?

The fear he had earlier of Ardyn lashing out slowly morphed into a new, slightly wonderful anxiety. They were going back to Ardyn’s place. To continue right where they had left off. 

Which left them…where, exactly? Noctis had no idea. Just what was Ardyn planning on doing with him?

He didn’t know. But he sorely wanted to find out.

__________________________________________

_Hammersmith, London  
_ _25 October, 1856  
_ _Monday - Late Afternoon_

 

As soon as they exited the park, Ardyn hailed a carriage. One stopped for them almost immediately. When the door opened, Ardyn held out his hand and politely helped Noctis into his seat. The horse dutifully stomped its feet on the cobblestone, eager to get going. When Noctis was settled, Ardyn rambled off his address to the driver and resolutely closed the door behind him.

Now they were alone. In the tightly cramped space of the horse-drawn carriage.

“Sit back,” Ardyn instructed. 

Mollified still, Noctis obeyed. His body swayed when the carriage kicked to life, but he quickly got his bearings. He was used to a smoother ride than this, but. It would do. Especially if they were going all the way to Kingston upon Thames!

Ardyn sat pressed up against Noctis’s side. The close proximity was practically smothering. When Noctis inhaled, the only thing he could smell was Ardyn. It made his heart start hammering in his chest, beating so fast Noctis could not think.

“Now, where were we?” 

Without waiting for permission, Ardyn gripped Noctis’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Deftly, with the confidence of a man who knew just what he wanted, Ardyn tilted Noctis’s face up to meet his. Then, he crashed their mouths together. Good and proper. A thirsty kiss. Parting Noctis’s lips to feel around with his tongue, thrashing against the inner recesses of the young man’s mouth. Places that had never felt another person’s tongue before.

It was a kiss like no other.

Thoughts dissolving, Noctis wrapped his arms around Ardyn’s neck. He kissed him back. Delighted at the full taste of him. A man’s mouth. Wide and prickly around the edges where there was stubble. Noctis liked the burn of Ardyn’s unshaven face. He wanted to feel more of that—to rub his face against Ardyn’s own until his skin actually hurt afterwards.

“Nnnh…” Noctis groaned into the kiss. Their angle was not ideal because they were sitting in the carriage, but he didn’t care. He just wanted Ardyn to stay glued to his side. 

Overcome with desire, Noctis caught Ardyn’s bottom lip between his teeth. He bit down hard enough to make the older man grunt. An audible reaction. Noctis’s stomach roiled in pleasure. He wanted to wrap his legs around Ardyn’s waist and bite him again. Feel that rumble travel through this man’s body. Feel it in his thighs, in his hips, and between his legs—

Ardyn pulled away for a moment. They were both breathing heavily. Not to mention, the rouge Noctis had been wearing was smeared across the lower half of Ardyn’s face. 

Giddy from such breathtaking kissing, Noctis snorted another laugh. He tried to wipe the rouge with his thumb. The color had already stained the older man’s skin though. His face would be vaguely reddish for the rest of the evening. 

Taking the moment as a brief reprieve, Ardyn carefully untied the ribbons around Noctis’s chin. Loosening the bonnet enough that he could slide it from the young man’s head. 

His identity revealed, Noctis did not know what kind of face he should make. He stared back at Ardyn. Equal parts defiant and uncertain.

“Ah, I see now.” Ardyn peppered kisses across Noctis’s face. Kissing away any lingering creases in the boy’s mouth and eyes. Tickling him with his stubble. “Lord Regis Caelum’s notoriously wayward son, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Noctis tried to kiss Ardyn back, but the man leaned out of his reach. It seemed he still wanted to talk.

Ardyn apprised Noctis’s rouge-stained face. “What’s your name, lad?” 

“…Noctis.” He brushed some of the stray bangs out of his eyes. 

“Mmm, that’s right. Noctis Caelum. I’ve heard of you.” Ardyn ran the backs of his fingers down the expanse of Noctis’s creamy throat. 

Noctis threw his head back in pleasure. Those fingers on his neck felt just as good as he imaged. He squirmed in his seat, painfully hard now against the confines of his outfit. 

Seeing the reaction that got, Ardyn hummed in approval. He leaned in and licked one long stripe from the hollow of Noctis’s throat all the way up to his chin. 

“Ah!” Feeling himself start to come undone, Noctis buried his fingers in Ardyn’s hair. He knocked the older man’s top hat to the floor. 

Shit, that felt good. A long, warm, wet tongue on his neck…Ardyn’s confident licking… 

Sure enough, the gentleman began lapping at every inch of Noctis’s neck he could reach. Leaving the sharp taste of saliva in his wake. Making Noctis undulate his hips, trying desperately to give his leaking manhood some contact. But the hoop skirt just moved with him, as always. Offering him no release. His drawers got wetter and wetter each passing second. Soaked wherever they came in contact with his length.

While Noctis gritted his teeth against the frustration, Ardyn became conversational. “But you did surprise me, my dear,” he explained. “I really thought you were a woman. And a damn gorgeous one at that."

Remembering once again that they were two guys pawing each other in the back of a carriage, Noctis had to question what the hell they were going to do from here.

Nothing proper, that’s for certain. 

“Are you sure you…” he began to say. Then Ardyn grazed his skin with his teeth and the words fizzled into another agonized moan. 

“Oh yes. I’m quite sure.” Ardyn’s hands began to wander. Across Noctis’s corseted stomach and waist. “Increasingly sure, as they case may be. When you make those delightful sounds…”

He nibble Noctis’s earlobe to hear them again. And Noctis did not disappoint.

“But I’m…!” The young lord needed to say this much at least! Even though Ardyn was trying to drive him mad with his devilishly cunning mouth! “…a…man…” 

Ardyn huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yes, I’m aware that you’re a man, darling. I have met a few men before in my life, so I’m able to recognize one when given a proper look.”

He rubbed his nose in the artificial cleavage underneath Noctis’s chemisette. It was a strange thing to do, considering the conversation, but Noctis could not look away. 

Taking a deep breath, Ardyn moved back for a moment. Suddenly thoughtful. “Now, when I say I’ve ‘met’ a few men…well, I’m sure you can extrapolate what I mean by that, right? You seem like a smart boy, Noctis. Smart enough, anyway.” 

Blue eyes widening, Noctis choked on air. Yeah, Ardyn had just made his word choice pretty clear. So this was not anything entirely new to the older man. Somehow. Somehow, among all the blokes in London, Noctis had stumbled upon a man who would not raise an eyebrow at a cross-dressing young nobleman that went crazy from a little necking—

But. Noctis could not get his head around the idea. What did two men…do together? Were they just going to jerk each other off? Not that Noctis minded. He was slowly developing a fixation with Ardyn’s hands. But…after all their talk of sex and death-like orgasms, was that it? 

Noctis didn’t know. He’d never once in his life thought about what it would be like to sex have with another man. Not until this very afternoon.

And now, from the soles of his feet to the tips of his hair, Noctis wanted exactly that. He wanted to know what Ardyn did—he wanted to go as far as he could. 

Because really, he had already gone pretty fucking far. He was dressed to the nines in a woman’s day gown, making out with a strange man in a carriage headed who the hell knew where. Hard as an iron rail. Eager for more. Whatever ‘more’ meant.

Sure. You weren’t supposed to have sex with guys. That was pretty much society’s Rule #1 (or #2, really, after like murder and stuff). But Noctis didn’t care about any of that! He made it a point not to. If the whole purpose of dressing like a woman was to give the middle finger to all sense of propriety in this shitty ass town—and it _was_ —then why not take it all the way? Go home with this guy. See what was so horrible about sleeping with a man (and a damn, fucking, unfairly sexy one at that). 

If he didn’t like it, Noctis was sure he could put a stop to all this. Part of him trusted that. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he did.

So there.

Ardyn’s wandering hands reached the cushiony outline of Noctis’s ‘breasts.’ He stared at them for a moment. Curious. He cupped the bottom curve, fondling them delicately. Coming to a sudden realization, he jabbed one of them with a finger. Poked it a few times.

Noctis was weirdly insulted by the gesture. He wanted to slap Ardyn’s hand away, even though he couldn’t actually feel anything the man was doing. Still. That was his theoretical chest under there…!

Ardyn clicked his teeth in disappointment. He reached the top hemline of the chemisette and pulled it open, peeking inside at the silverware pillows and Noctis’s bare chest. 

“A convincing enough appearance,” he announced, looking back at the young lord with sad eyes and a smiling mouth. “But they feel nothing like the genuine articles, I’m afraid.” 

Breaking into a grin, he tugged one of the pillows loose. Trying to yank it from Noctis’s chemisette altogether.

Noctis gasped and grabbed the older man’s hand. “Don’t—!” 

But Ardyn paid him no mind. He slipped the pillow out of Noctis’s shirt and tossed it aside. It landed on the floor of the carriage with a soft thud. 

Now Noctis sported only one of a pair. He looked at Ardyn with an unamused expression. Laughing quietly, the older man pulled out the second pillow, letting it join its mate.

Flat chested as nature intended, Noctis sort of shivered when he felt cold air on his skin again. The pillows hadn’t been uncomfortable, but. There was nothing like freedom.

Ardyn eyed Noctis’s tiny, dusty brown nipples hungrily. He licked his lips in anticipation. “Ah. Here’s something I can truly enjoy.” 

With that, he stuck his hand down the front of Noctis’s chemisette and rubbed the fresh skin around the young man’s chest. Those fingers…Noctis sighed in relief. It felt like a comforting massage to his pectorals at first. He liked it.

Then Ardyn brushed his thumb over one of Noctis’s nipples. Not too hard, but just enough. 

“Hey!” Noctis cried. He wasn’t expecting a touch like that!

Ardyn gave him another toothy grin. He did it again, stroking Noctis’s defenseless nipple over and over. It wasn’t a sensation the young man particularly liked—it almost itched, and tickled in an irritating way.

But all at once, Ardyn leaned down and licked the nipple on the other side. Slowly. Confidently, as always. 

_That._

There was heat and wetness, a clever tongue—! Noctis twisted his body and squealed in an undignified way. That should not have felt so good! Except now Ardyn was doing it again, lapping around the whole area, until both of Noctis’s nipples were as hard as his cock. Red and full, begging to be touched.

Noctis gasped in short, surprised breaths as Ardyn gently pinched him. Torturing his poor nipples until Noctis thought he might lose it. Like, actually lose it. He didn’t know if he could take any more of this crazy kind of pleasure. If he came now—just from Ardyn’s mouth and fingers abusing his nipples—would their play be over? 

It was over once you came, right? 

Then what, would Noctis have to go home?

Ardyn grazed his teeth over the swollen bud in his mouth. Holding in a whimper, Noctis’s back curled. Testing the restraints of the corset. He pressed his chest closer to Ardyn’s mouth, trying to get Ardyn to suck on them. That’s what he liked best, Noctis realized. When this man sucked his nipples carefully—not too hard, but enough to make him really feel it. 

Damn. Noctis needed to try hard to stop himself from coming. He really didn’t want any of this to be over. (And he didn’t exactly want to come like a virgin just from a little touching, either.) He wanted to make it to the main event…prove to Ardyn that he could do it.

But oh god. Noctis’s eyes began to cross as Ardyn flicked his nail against the sticky flesh on the very tip of his nipple. How could he last when he did that? Even worse, the stubble on the older man’s chin scratched his areola, amplifying all the sensations in a way that bordered on pain. 

Humming merrily, Ardyn pulled off Noctis’s nipple with a wet pop. The skin around Noctis’s chest was red, irritated. But now the cool air felt much, much better…! He dropped his head back against the seat and tried not to cum. 

“Relax, Noctis. You sweet boy.” Ardyn patted Noctis on the head like he would a small child. (And no one in Noctis’s life had ever called him ‘sweet’ before.) “We still have a ways to go before we reach my humble abode."

Realizing the man was right, Noctis groaned low in his throat. The question was, would he last that long? 

More accurately, could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to guess at how long it would take a carriage to go from Ravenscourt Park to Kingston upon Thames. Maybe like...an hour? *shrug* Also this is fanfiction. And Noctis is in for a rough ride. (Heh.)
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me!!!


	3. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just one night. What's so special about one night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *First order of business very important* The beautiful [roundnround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundnround/pseuds/roundnround) has drawn an AMAZING fanart to go with this fic! [Look at it, it's so gorgeous!](https://jeejascoffee.tumblr.com/post/168296370262/the-lovely-amazing-weirdfans-drew-this-fanart-to)
> 
> Second order of business, also very important, here is a bunch of porn!
> 
> Enjoy.

_Kingston Upon Thames_  
_25 October, 1856  
_ _Monday - Evening_

 

“We’re here.” 

The carriage rolled to a stop. For a moment, the entire world came into harsh focus and Noctis’s eyes flew open. 

_Jesus_. He really had not thought he would survive any of that. Several times over the course of that torturous carriage ride, Noctis had felt himself dangerously close to the brink. One foot raised in the air, ready to dive off the cliff into sweet, sweet orgasm that would make Noctis’s twitching balls finally settle down. They were so heavy and hard…clenching and gasping with every touch of Ardyn’s fingers. About to go off.

Ardyn had taken Noctis straight to blue ball territory with nothing but a few carefully timed licks and pinches to the skin along his face, neck, and chest. Once, Ardyn slid his foot underneath the hem of Noctis’s skirt, letting his boot rest in the space between Noctis’s feet. Not touching him any higher than that. Infringing upon his boundaries every so slightly—

Unable to stop himself, Noctis locked his angles around Ardyn’s calf. He wanted (really _needed_ ) to straddle that leg and press his swollen, trembling manhood against it—but alas, it was impossible. Not with so many layers and so much crinoline. 

Noctis bit his lip and used every last bit of physical stamina he possessed to keep himself in check.

By the time they finally reached Kingston Upon Thames, it felt like whole days had already passed. When Noctis looked outside the carriage, he saw that it was dark outside. It took him a moment to remember what day it was.

Monday, right. Getting late. 

And…what was he doing again? Spending the night with some stranger from an unknown family? Without anyone knowing where he was? So…was this a good idea or…?

“Shall we?” 

Picking his top hat off the floor, Ardyn slid out of the carriage and held the door open for Noctis. Clutching his flat chest, Noctis searched for the silverware pillows. He couldn’t find them on the floor nor underneath the seats.

Gently, Ardyn whistled to get the younger man’s attention. Looking up, Noctis saw the pillows clutched in the older man’s large hand. 

Damn. Seeing those pillows squeezed between Ardyn’s fingers…it kind of pissed Noctis off. Like Ardyn was taunting him somehow. Pointing out the garish truth of his disguise. The lewdness of it all.

Plus, Noctis’s good judgement had more or less flown the coop somewhere over the course of that hedonistic carriage ride. He could recognize the fact that Ardyn was teasing him. Tempting him. But he didn’t see a reason not to accept. 

He was drawn to Ardyn. Every last bit of him. The cocky, arrogant bit, coaxing Noctis closer to him with each variation of that shit-eating grin the man possessed. The sexy bit, touching Noctis in ways he never knew he wanted. Even the dangerous bit: A mysterious stranger with an unknown past. Noctis was drawn to that too.

Clicking his teeth in frustration, deciding to suppress every rational, dissenting thought he had for the rest of the night, Noctis stumbled out of the carriage. His legs were strangely weak. It was getting pretty tricky to maneuver the dress, corset, and hoop skirt when he was already so…distracted.

His bonnet hung around his shoulders. Even with his hands clasped to his chest, it was obvious that Noctis’s chemisette was missing a few buttons. Thankfully, the carriage horse kicked up its feet the moment Noctis got out; the driver apparently uninterested or unaware of whatever was going on behind him.

It would be pretty bad if anyone saw him like this. Clutching the fabric of his chemisette, Noctis stuck the bonnet awkwardly back on his head (not bothering to tie it) and reached for the pillows in Ardyn’s hand.

The man held his prize just out of reach. Noctis gave him an annoyed look and tried again, but by now Ardyn was walking down the short path that lead to his front gate.

“No need for these anymore, I think,” Ardyn tossed over his shoulder. To make a point, he chucked the pillows into the grass on the side of the road. Discarding them among the shrubbery. “We can dispense with the theatrics now, can’t we?”

Noctis wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, how irritating Ardyn was being about the whole thing or the fact that Ardyn had dropped all pretense and wasn’t escorting him up the walking path. A gentleman would have escorted his lady by the arm wherever they walked, even in a semi-private place like this. Because surely Ardyn had servants or something…people still might see them.

And here was Noctis. Looking like a woman of the night with his dress and bonnet gone lopsided. Following behind Ardyn like a hired servant.

Now that Ardyn knew Noctis’s true gender, was he going to stop treating him like a gentlewoman? 

“Tch. Bastard,” Noctis mumbled under his breath. He stomped after the older man and met him at the gate.

Ardyn’s home was not so much a manor (not at all, really), more of a house. Slightly bigger than the average townhouse. A modestly sized hall. A small gate sat out front, guarding the decent porch and grandiose doorway from the rest of the public. Surrounded on either side by its neighboring properties, thus no gardens or outer grounds to speak of. Only about three stories high. All grey stone and tall windows. Not enough room for a stable (which was probably why Ardyn did not own his own carriage) nor separate quarters for the servants. Most likely, the help at Ardyn’s house slept on the ground floor or the basement—which came as a shock to Noctis, who lived at the sprawling estate in Chiswick all his life. This house would almost have been considered middle class, if not for the sheer size of it.

It was fairly large. Probably at least thirty rooms. An exceedingly humble mansion. It would be a summer home to the people of Noctis’s station. But if Ardyn actually lived here year round, then he must be from some kind of weakening old money. An heir to a dwindling estate or something like that. 

There was a hanging torchlight by the front door. And lamps already lit in two of the windows. Clearly someone was anticipating the master’s return.

“Welcome to Engheld House, my humble abode.” Ardyn bowed at the waist and gestured to his dimly lit mansion. As always, he wore a smile that threw everything he did into a sarcastic light.

Well, apparently this place was old enough to have its own name. Definitely a family-owned estate then. Probably passed down since god only knew when.

Then, to Noctis’s great surprise, Ardyn took a ring of keys out of his coat and unlocked the gate himself. 

It would have been a cold day in hell before Regis—owner of the Caelum Estate—let himself in to his own grounds. That responsibility was left to the servants and the groundskeeper. But Ardyn just pulled the rickety gate open with his own two hands like it was nothing!

Eyes wide, Noctis stared at Ardyn’s thick shoulders. The guy was manhandling the wrought iron like a groundsman—just as easily as Gladiolus would. Noctis had never seen a man in gentleman’s clothes perform such a feat! He wanted to feel the outline of Ardyn’s muscles underneath that coat. He wanted to know if they were just as solid as his forearms had been. Even more-so probably. And so warm, straining against the woolen fabric of his coat. Ardyn was stuffed into a gentleman’s suit, but Noctis could already tell there was something else underneath. Something natural and wild.

Perhaps they were the same in that regard.

Inhibitions scattered to the winds, Noctis leapt forward and wrapped both arms around Ardyn’s bicep. He squeezed the flesh there in sheer wonder, fingering the creases in the frock coat where it pulled against Ardyn’s body.

Sure enough, the man was completely solid underneath. Two arms like lampposts! Noctis could have literally swung from them if he wanted to. 

He squeezed a little harder. Pawing at the older man, trying to find the definition in his arms, and then his shoulders, then his chest—oh that broad chest. The real treasure. Noctis stuck his hand underneath the man’s frock coat and fondled the collared shirt that separated Ardyn’s lanky body from the rest of the world. The smooth material accentuated Ardyn’s warmth and Noctis had to fight back a moan when he felt the outline of the older man’s pectorals.

“Mmm…” he hummed with interest. He tried to bury his face against Ardyn’s neck so he could nibble the tough, stubbly skin a little more…

But Ardyn grabbed Noctis’s wrists to hold him still. Fixing him with a fiery look, somewhere in the middle of annoyed and enticed.

“Now, now,” the older gentleman chided. “Let’s wait until we’re fully inside.”

His golden eyes searched Noctis’s face. There was a question hanging in the air, clear as day in that look. Ardyn opened his mouth to ask something, but at the last moment he snorted and shook his head.

Fixing Noctis’s bonnet and chemisette, graciously putting the younger man back together, Ardyn turned whimsical. “As much as I like you disheveled, I suppose you should be somewhat presentable. My butler will most likely greet us at the door.” 

“Hmph.” Noctis let Ardyn’s hands roam around his dress, smoothing out the wrinkles from the carriage ride. 

He wanted more than anything to know what Ardyn was going to ask. Those eyes, squinted and curious. He wanted to cup that craggy face and force Ardyn to ask it. 

_Say it. Why don’t you just say it?_

Still. The moment passed. Noctis looked away and huffed once more, tugging the bonnet closer to his face as he prepared himself to meet the butler (hopefully the man didn’t look too closely at his flat chest). 

They weren’t ready to be serious with each other yet. Too early for the real shit, like whatever was in Ardyn’s head right now.

And Noctis was too much of a coward—fuck it, yeah, he was—to ask. 

Fixing his normal vain smile back on his face, Ardyn held his arm out to Noctis. “Shall I escort you, my dear?”

The young lord nodded stiffly. “About time,” he answered, grabbing Ardyn’s arm tightly.

Chuckling under his breath, Ardyn patted his guest’s hand. At that, Noctis allowed himself a small smile. He shifted closer to Ardyn and tried not to think about his throbbing cock, pulsing relentlessly and unseen.

Sure enough, a middle-aged man in a black suit jacket opened the front door when they came to entrance. He bowed for a moment, saying nothing. When he lifted his head again, Noctis could see that his face was saggy and profoundly wrinkled. Though his hair was still vibrantly black with only a few strands of grey running through it. His eyes and mouth drooped, as if perpetually weighed down by something heavy.

“Mr. Ulldor,” Ardyn announced. “We’ll be headed straight to my rooms. No need for supper or tea.” 

The butler glanced at Noctis. But his cold eyes did not linger. Instead, the man (Mr. Ulldor) grunted lowly and stood aside to let them through. He took his master’s coat and hat at least when they walked in the door.

Noctis would have been embarrassed by Ardyn’s blatant announcement—could he make it any more obvious what they were about to do?—except for the fact that it looked like Ulldor did not care in the slightest. After taking Ardyn’s things, he walked silently to the back of the house. Nothing to light his way. He just skulked back to…wherever he came from. Without bothering to say a word.

By all accounts it was rude. And very strange. Hardly proper for a butler’s behavior (if Ignis were here he would have gone red in the face, ashamed and angry on everyone’s behalf). Any sensible gentleman would fire such a man without a second thought—unless there was some special significance to him. Perhaps Ulldor had been in the family for years, just like the house.

Frowning and glancing around the sparsely decorated interior, Noctis suddenly had a weird feeling about the place. There was a wide wooden staircase running through the center of the house. All the walls were painted dark red, but there were hardly any paintings on the wall. The heart of the house was a dining room with the requisite mahogany dining table and chairs, but other than that, the house looked barely furnished. A few end tables here and there. That was it.

It lacked the homey sort of feeling that usually came with family estates.

“Don’t be alarmed by Mr. Ulldor,” Ardyn said casually. He came up behind Noctis and wrapped his arms around the young man’s waist. “He means no harm. He’s just a man of few words.”

“I noticed,” Noctis returned. 

Framed by the older man’s arms, bearing the weight and heat of him, their surroundings began to matter less and less. Things did not seem so out of place suddenly. Noctis’s back was pressed against Ardyn’s sturdy chest. He reveled in the feeling.

“Up the stairs, darling,” Ardyn instructed. His voice was very soft. “On to the main event.” 

As he set foot on the stairs, Noctis realized exactly what he was about to do. Ardyn was behind him, gently prodding him the whole way. He had no idea what was going to happen to him tonight, but he knew that he would probably never be the same afterwards. He’d never done anything like this before—going home with a strange man under the pretext of sex—and suddenly it hit him: They were going to _do_ this. 

His heart was racing. His palms were sweating. 

Yeah. He was a little scared. Maybe…more than a little. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Ardyn took Noctis by the hand and led him to the only room with a light on. A small gas lamp sat on the nightstand next to a grandiose, king-sized bed. Here finally were some furnishings; a few paintings. A chifforobe. The paintings themselves were a little bizarre, though. Several of them showed images of the night sky overlooking a calm sea. Similar but different images. Dark. In strange taste.

“Hmm….” Ardyn sauntered around to face Noctis. Without his outer coat on, the younger man could see the sharp inward slope of Ardyn’s hips. His thin legs. As well as his broad shoulders. Heavy on top and slim on the bottom. As imagined.

Noctis was breathing heavily.

Smirking, Ardyn brought Noctis’s delicate hand up to his lips. He kissed the young mans’s knuckles a few times. Slowly. Pedestrian compared to what he had done for Noctis in the carriage. 

“You’re shaking, my dear,” Ardyn noted.

It was true.

“Yeah, um…” The tips of Noctis’s fingers were cold and clammy.

Ardyn warmed them by sticking the fleshy pads of Noctis fingers in his mouth, one by one. Licking them with his tongue. Here, in the light, Noctis could see how long this man’s tongue really was. Wide and thick. 

“Nnnh…” Noctis had to bite his lip to keep himself from collapsing. That tongue knew how to do all kinds of things…it wasn’t fair. 

Even if this situation was stupidly dangerous—and it was—Noctis knew he was not going to fight it. Not when Ardyn licked him like that. Sucked on his middle finger. Swirled his tongue all over the width of his digit, with the same care and attention to detail Noctis could only imagine this man would give if he were sucking Noctis’s dick. 

And so. He was caught. He had to stay. He had to see what Ardyn was offering. Consequences be damned. 

“What happened to all your bravado from earlier?” the older man asked, slipping the bonnet off Noctis’s head.

“It’s just…” Noctis rocked back on his heels. 

Should he admit the truth? His completely lack of experience with men? Could Ardyn already tell?

“…yes?” Ardyn coaxed. 

But it seemed the pretense of conversation was getting thinner and thinner. Ardyn was not waiting for Noctis to answer him. Instead, he circled around the younger man a few times. Eyeing his dress, tugging on it here and there. Trying to figure out its secrets, how it worked. How to get it off of him.

As the minutes ticked by, Noctis began to feel like he was already naked. He didn’t have anything left to say. He could just about concentrate enough to keep himself breathing. Everything in this room smelled like Ardyn—man musk, cologne, old muslin and velour—and Noctis was captivated.

When Ardyn touched him again, Noctis visibly flinched. Those large hands rested on his waist for a moment, then they travelled upwards. To Noctis’s stomach, his chest. His shoulders. With a careful hand, Ardyn pulled one shoulder of the dress down, exposing Noctis’s chemisette underneath.

Humming in appreciation as the younger man gasped—his heart was trying to leap out of his ches, because this man was going to undress him now—Ardyn pressed a kiss to Noctis’s soft shoulder. 

“Well then,” he murmured. Directly in Noctis’s ear this time. Sending shivers through the young lord’s frozen body. “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding.” 

Without wasting any more time, Ardyn slid the arms of the dress off Noctis. When the bodice sagged, the wily man (clearly a practiced hand in this regard) reached to the bottom hem along the skirt and pulled the entire day gown off in one fierce tug. 

Noctis was swimming in fabric for a moment, as the dress was pulled over his head. Then he was standing there in a petticoat, chemisette, and hoop skirt. Mouth hanging open.

Ardyn let the dress fall to the floor. He grabbed Noctis by the waist, muttering something indistinct under his breath, and started undoing the buttons of the young lord’s chemisette. 

Trembling from head to toe, Noctis gripped Ardyn’s wrists and let the stranger do whatever he wanted. He wanted to keep his hands there just in case. Because Ardyn was exposing his corset underneath. The satin pink-covered whalebone peeked out from the folds of the undershirt. Not missing a beat, Ardyn undid the buttons of the petticoat as well. With a flutter of cotton, it pooled around Noctis’s feet.

“Step out of it,” Ardyn commanded.

Holding the older man’s hand, Noctis obeyed. He closed his eyes as Ardyn slipped the chemisette from his as well. Now his male chest was fully exposed—gaping away from the corset where a woman’s breasts should have been. 

“Take off your boots.”

Oh right, Noctis should probably do that. He stepped out of those as well, along with his knee-length stockings. 

It took Ardyn a few moments to figure out how the caged crinoline worked. When he discovered the clasp around the waist, he made a pleased sound and quickly opened the stays. The hoop skirt dropped to the ground with a resounding clang of reeds. 

Hesitant—unsure what came next—Noctis put his hands on Ardyn’s shoulders. This man was a good deal taller than him. Which…seemed to fit. In a sudden fit he pulled off Ardyn’s ascot and tie, leaving the hollow of the older man’s throat exposed.

That neck was tan. The skin was leathery, but not as gruff looking as the skin on his hands. An Adam’s apple set low in the throat, bobbing as Ardyn laughed softly in approval.

Seeing that little bit of this man’s body, Noctis felt as if he had been granted a glimpse behind the curtain of propriety. A gentleman never left his throat exposed in polite company. Noctis was getting to see the man, not the gentleman. A real human. 

Hunger boiled in the pit of Noctis’s stomach.

Without thinking, he nipped Ardyn’s Adam’s apple, sucking it into his mouth like he would have done to a woman’s tit. Licking the solid bone, hoping he left a mark with his teeth. Something Ardyn might need to cover later. He nibbled and sucked as hard as he could, trying to tug Ardyn’s waistcoat away from his stomach. 

“Ah, yes. There’s my bold boy.” 

Thrumming with excitement, Ardyn tucked his hands in the small indent under Noctis’s ribs, made by the corset. Giving no word of warning, he lifted Noctis—whole body—up and out of the crinoline in one insane feat of strength.

“Whoa, hey!” Noctis kicked his feet in midair as he dangled in Ardyn’s hands.

He landed on the bed with a small bounce as Ardyn lightheartedly thew him down. Now he was wearing nothing but an ill-fitting corset and a man’s drab pantaloons. Split halfway between men’s and women’s clothing, some kind of freakish anomaly. He sat up on his elbows and regarded the stranger towering over him. The man casually undoing his waistcoat and tossing it on the floor to join the rest of their discarded clothes. 

“Holy…shit…” Noctis did not know what else to say. He should tell Ardyn not to throw him around! To be careful with his things, and…maybe not drop him from so high up next time! That was a little too much. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he panted and stared at Ardyn with wide eyes and an open mouth. Chest rising and falling.

“…Interesting choice of pants,” Ardyn commented. Eyes glued to the greying fabric.

Blushing, Noctis twisted his hips to hide the prominent erection evident through his drawers. No doubt Ardyn had already seen it, but. Noctis felt weird sitting there with a hard-on tenting his pants like a flag pole in Belgravia. Not to mention, he knew how ridiculous he must look right now. Dressed at the meeting point of male and female.

“I…didn’t have any women’s drawers…obviously…” Noctis stammered. Not really an excuse, more of an explanation.

“Shame."

Ardyn knelt at the foot of the bed and started running his hands across the thin frabric on Noctis’s thighs. Holding the young lord’s hips in place so he could stare at the bulge in between his legs. And stare he did, to his heart’s content.

Noctis’s mouth went dry as Ardyn stared. He was still covered, but. It did not feel that way. What the hell was Ardyn doing? Staring at another man’s cock with a look of such intense desire. Like he was whetting his appetite by watching Noctis’s dick twitch helplessly under the linen. 

With one finger, Ardyn traced the wet stain around Noctis’s crotch. Evidence of his arousal from earlier.

“Hey…come on….” Noctis turned a darker shade of red. 

But that finger was so close to where he needed it. He had been at full-mast ever since he first saw those men looking at him on the street—at this point, his cock was so sensitive he might not be able to hold back if Ardyn grazed him with his finger…

Still, Ardyn’s face showed noting but curiosity. He moved on, slipping his hand up to the bottom seam of the corset, where the hem met Noctis’s pants. He dipped his finger underneath the pants and slowly stretched the linen outwards. Just enough to peer inside at Noctis’s desperate manhood. 

Of course he saw the mess of pre-cum in there. The engorged cock, flushed a nice shade of crimson. 

The truth. Every damning ounce of it that showed Noctis for what he really was: A pervert. A guy getting off on wearing women’s clothes and being touched by an old dude. Turned on by every single one of the people who had stared at him today. 

It was true. Each gaze brought him closer and closer to this point. Now he had drenched his own drawers and could not think past getting this stranger’s hand down his pants. 

The point of no return. 

Fuck. He did this to himself, didn’t he?

Ardyn let go of the linen, giving Noctis back his privacy. Settling down between Noctis’s spread knees, he broke out in a wolfish grin. 

“My, my,” Ardyn whispered.

He closed the distance between their faces, noses almost touching. Noctis could taste the man’s breath. Feel the ghost of his lips. He buried his hands in Ardyn’s thick hair and kissed him. 

The kiss felt familiar by no. They had sucked each other’s faces for nearly a full hour on the way over. When their lips met this time, Noctis felt nothing but relief. _Finally_. Here he was. Being devoured and devouring, in equal turn. Because Ardyn was every bit the kind of kisser Noctis imagined. He let Noctis bite his lips as much as he want. Suck on his tongue. Lay there and swallow his spit. Ardyn let Noctis wrap his legs around his waist, and slowly, hesitantly, rub his soaked linens against him.

“Mmm…!” Some pressure there. At last…Noctis rocked his hips against the firm body between his knees. 

He could come like this. He could. It wouldn’t be pretty or dignified in the least, but Noctis could get there. If he kept going, kept throwing himself at the man’s body above him, just kept thrusting into solid flesh…

“Now, Noct…” Ardyn pushed the young lord’s legs off of him. Stopping Noctis’s orgasm prematurely. “Don’t be hasty.” 

“But, I…!” Noctis really needed to cum right now! He tried to wrap his legs around Ardyn again, but this time the man was having none of it.

Instead, Ardyn sat down next to Noctis on the bed. He waited for Noctis to crawl over to him—which of course the young lord did, because he could not hold back anymore—and then he gathered Noctis in his arms, flipping him around to face outward. Sitting him down in his lap, back to chest, holding him firmly in place with a set of hands around his hips.

Noctis slowly adjusted to this new position. Being propped up in the older man’s lap. He couldn’t say he minded. From this angle, he could feel Ardyn’s manhood pressing into the small of his back. Heavy and hard. A reassurance. It made Noctis’s mouth start to water for some reason. He tried to reach behind himself and grab a handful of that length—he wanted to _feel_ it—but Ardyn knocked his hand away. 

The older man kissed Noctis’s pale neck, gently sucking on the young man’s earlobe. Tasting. Treating himself, basically. Noctis squirmed, far too turned on to really appreciate teasing, but threw his head to the side to give Ardyn more access. 

What else could he do? He was trapped. And he needed some kind of contact.

“Do you mind if I call you Noct?” Ardyn asked conversationally. He slipped his hand into Noctis’s drawers and very slowly pulled them down. Letting them dangle off one of Noctis’s feet in a wet mess.

Naked now except for the corset, Noctis gulped and shook his head. He liked the way his bare ass felt against the harsh wool of Ardyn’s pants. He didn’t know why. But he liked it. Also, his wet cock twitching in midair felt slightly more comfortable. 

Even though he knew Ardyn could see everything. That he was watching him with those molten eyes.

Fuck, that only made it better.

“I don’t mind…” Noctis rushed to say, sliding his hands up and down Ardyn’s wrists. Silently begging to be touched. 

“Good,” Ardyn said with a chuckle. “I think I’ve earned the right to. Holding you like this. Managing to free you from all those cumbersome layers. As you have no doubt been wanting me to do for most of the afternoon. Am I right?”

As he spoke, he caressed Noctis’s dripping length with the tips of his fingers. Very lightly. Up and down. 

Pleasure exploded behind Noctis’s eyes. He cried out, feeling his thighs begin to tremble. Sweet merciful god, it felt so good… Ardyn was barely giving him anything, but. Those hard fingertips. Trailing the wet, burning flesh on his cock…making his hips thrash, trying to get more friction. But Ardyn wouldn’t give it to him yet. He was in complete control at the moment, and he was content to tease Noctis until his brain melted into some kind of mush.

“I’m right, aren’t I? You were already hard when we were talking in the park, weren’t you?” 

Those darkly muttered words somehow only stoked the flames inside Noctis. Making him hotter and hotter.

“Yeah….!” he squeaked. He wanted to tell him! “Yes, I was…turned on…!”

Ardyn gently wrapped a loose fist around Noctis’s manhood. He laughed. “I know, I know. Of course you were.”

Noctis clenched his teeth and screamed with a closed mouth. Even that much pressure was bringing him to the edge.

“You like wearing women’s clothes, don’t you, Noct?” Ardyn began stroking him lazily.

Writhing in the older man’s arms, Noctis nodded his head violently. “Yeah! I…do…I, ah fuck, that’s—!” 

“Yes, naturally, you do.” Ardyn kissed the side of Noctis’s head, continuing to stroke him. Unhurried. Taking his sweet, damn time. Dragging Noctis to his peak in slow, rhythmic pulls.

“Ah, ah, ah ah ah…!” Noctis knees clacked together. His thighs pumped in time to Ardyn’s drawn-out strokes. He was a mess, jaw hanging open, eyes rolling back in his head. 

“And you should,” the older man continued. “You look gorgeous as a woman, Noct. And as a man. You are, simply put, an absolute beauty. A true gem. A diamond in the ruff of these dull London streets.” 

Noctis heard the words. They stroked his ego and made his cock leak. He wanted to be beautiful. He liked it. He wanted Ardyn to think that he was…! 

He wished he could say something. Demand that Ardyn tell him more. But, that was utterly beyond him at the moment. A few more tugs and Noctis was about to reach heaven. He could feel it in his quivering balls, in the rush of sensation in his abdomen. 

He was _so close!_

There was a small possibility that Noctis was mumbling some incoherent noises. A combination of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more,’ along with staccato moans. But if he was, he didn’t need to think about it afterwards. He just couldn’t hold anything back when he was up against that clever, loose, leisurely, decidedly male fist.

“Lean your head back,” Ardyn instructed. Rough, but calm. “I want to see your face when you come.” 

As if pulled by a magnet, Noctis immediately did as he was told. He threw his head against Ardyn’s shoulder, leaving his whole face exposed. He knew Ardyn was looking at him—he _wanted_ him to look—he wanted Ardyn to get off on it…!

“There, that’s it. Just like that. Oh, you’re beautiful, Noct. Come for me, won’t you? I want you to cum, now.” 

Digging his fingers into the coarse wool of Ardyn’s trousers, Noctis came. It all hit him in a swift, powerful rush, dragging him under and making him spray his cum violently all over the duvet. His body spasmed. He needed to breathe, but the corset would only let him take so many breaths. Gulping down air, Noctis rode out his mind-shattering orgasm against Ardyn’s fist. His vision went black around the edges. Dark spots swarmed his sight. He needed to breathe, he needed to empty himself, he needed to scream, he needed to—!

Blackness took him. Noctis collapsed backwards and fell unconscious in the wake of his climax.

“Good boy.” 

Ardyn held him firmly in place. He stroked some sweat soaked bangs out of the young man’s eyes and kissed his cheek softly. 

“Very good.”

______________________________________________

_Kingston Upon Thames_  
_? October, 1856  
_ _?? - Night_

 

Noctis rolled onto his side. He felt smooth sheets against his face. He remembered vaguely that he needed to breathe. But this time, when he took a breath, his ribs expanded normally. No whalebone holding him back. 

Sluggishly, Noctis opened his eyes and felt his own chest. Yes. There was his skin. Someone had taken the corset off him. Thank goodness…that corset had become pure torture by the end.

Noctis stretched his arms, feeling refreshed. 

Then, in the next moment, he realized that he was naked as the day he was born. And this was not his bed. Nor his room. 

Sitting up, some sheets and a blanket fell from Noctis’s shoulders. The sky outside the bay window was pitch black. Definitely time. But Noctis had no idea how long he’d been asleep. 

It took a few minutes for his memory to come back to him. He remembered Ardyn, he remembered that he was in Kingston Upon Thames. This was Ardyn’s bedroom. This was Ardyn’s bed. Ardyn had…

A shiver ran through him as Noctis remembered what Ardyn had done for him. It hadn’t even been that much, really, just a hand job. He’d had those before.

But Ardyn’s hand was _different_. Tough and unhurried. Confident. Squeezing him just around the head, like all men liked. He’d made Noctis come so hard that Noctis literally passed out—

“Ah. Glad to see you’ve come to.” 

Ardyn lay sprawled on the other side of the bed. Reading a small paperback novel by lamplight. He was still wearing his buttoned up collared shirt, but his trousers were missing. Now he just wore his knee-length pantaloons.

Gazing at Noctis with an easy, happy smile, Ardyn closed his book and turned to face the younger man. He put a hand to Noctis’s forehead, as if feeling his temperature. “How are you feeling?”

Thoroughly embarrassed (had he legit just passed out here? Fainted? Who the hell did that? And talk about dangerous! Ardyn could have done anything while he was unconscious…), Noctis tossed his head away from Ardyn’s hand. He wasn’t actually sick or anything. No need to rub it in his face.

“I’m fine.” Hyper-aware of his nakedness, Noctis crossed his arms over his chest. He looked away, not sure what Ardyn wanted from him now.

Probably to reciprocate in some way. Maybe with his mouth, or with his own hand. Noctis glanced back at Ardyn, trying to see the outline of the man’s cock underneath his pants. How thick was he? Could Noctis even…take him in his mouth? He might be able to lick it, but. Actually shoving this guy’s junk down his own throat? Maybe not…

Although, that image—the very idea—made Noctis’s pulse start to flutter. 

He supposed he could try. If Ardyn asked for a blowjob. Or…yeah.

“Here, at least have some water.” Ardyn reached for a tall glass of water on his nightstand. Noctis wondered when that got there. Had that man Ulldor brought the glass for Ardyn? The servant’s bell rope was right overhead. So then…had Ulldor seen Noctis like that? Knocked out? 

He really hoped not. It kind of gave him the creeps.

But, it was true, his mouth was dry. So Noctis took the glass and gulped down some water. He swallowed the whole thing before passing it back to Ardyn. 

“Feel better?” the older man asked. All patience and good will all of a sudden. 

Noctis nodded, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Yeah. Um…thanks.” 

Ardyn put the empty glass back. He bounced his eyebrows in surprise. “Ah. Some manners. That is an unexpected treat. I was beginning to think you’d been raised as a prince, Noctis Caelum. Used to people doting on you.” 

That was more or less the case, but Noctis stayed quiet. 

“At any rate, I hope you enjoyed your little death.” 

Before the stunned young lord could say anything, Ardyn got up onto his knees. He cupped one side of Noctis’s face. Gently. With a look of pure, fresh excitement raging behind his amber eyes, he asked, “What shall we do now?”

That hand was so hot. As warm as ever. Leathery and tough. And it smelled…like Noctis. Yeah. Noctis could smell himself on that hand, so that was the one Ardyn used…shit, that turned Noctis on.

He rubbed his face against that calloused palm. “Umm…” Noctis buried his nose in the cracks of Ardyn’s fingers, trying to smell as much as he could. “I guess that’s up to you."

He gave little kittenish licks to those long digits. Quivering when the salty taste hit his tongue. He wanted to do a lot with those fingers.

Ardyn hummed in pleasure. “Is it?” he asked. “Then you don’t have any say in the matter?”

“Well, I mean…” Noctis shrugged one shoulder. “I already…had mine. So. I guess I could do you.” 

“Do me?” Ardyn tilted his head to the side. “I like the sound of that. But what do you mean, sweet prince?” 

“Tch.” Noctis laid down on his belly. Eye level with the thick bulge in Ardyn’s pants. So close he could actually smell it and it smelled…oh. It smelled like what it was. A man’s prick, unwashed after a day’s toils. Ripe. Clammy. 

Noctis rolled his jaw. Oh, fuck yes, he was going to try and get this thing in his mouth. He wanted to know what it tasted like. He _needed_ to know…

“Well if I’m down here like this and you still don’t know, then…” Noctis turned his gaze up to meet Ardyn. Looking at him from behind his lashes. “…why don’t you just wait and see.”

Pleased with the utterly shocked lock on Ardyn’s face, Noctis wrapped his hand around the covered bulge of Ardyn’s manhood. It was hard, and it twitched under his hand. So, sure enough, Ardyn must have been feeling it too. Noctis might have felt a little bad about making the older man wait for his turn, but. More than that, he was kind of glad to see that Ardyn had successfully waited for Noctis to wake up before going at it. That took a lot of patience, probably. Noctis didn’t know if he could have done it, with the state he was in before.

Excited, Noctis pulled down Ardyn’s pants to meet face to face with the mysterious package he’d been imagining of the better part of a day. 

He was not disappointed.

Ardyn was decently long, perhaps a bit longer than Noctis. But he was so thick! Noctis wondered if he could cover the circumference of it with one hand. He might even need two, just for the girth.

Okay, maybe this blow job wasn’t happening. But still, Noctis felt the burning need to feel that soft, velvety skin on his tongue.

Swallowing, blue eyes as wide as dinner plates, Noctis curled his fingers around Ardyn’s stout cock. He thumbed the pulsing vein underneath, earning a satisfied rumble from the older man. So Noctis did it again. He squeezed a little harder, stroking his fist back and forth, amazed with a small drop of pre-cum appeared at the tip.

Noctis moved on instinct. He lapped up that delicious pearl of liquid before it fell.

And oh, the taste. Bitter, salty, and earthy. Leaving a trace of sourness on Noctis’s tongue when he pulled away. It was not at all a good taste, but Noctis liked it. Even _loved_ it. He wanted more. So, he leaned in and licked several long striped up the side of Ardyn’s length.

“I see, Noct.” Ardyn sighed with gusto. “You’ve been dying for a taste of my cock, haven’t you?”

Nodding, tongue out, Noctis’s eyes fluttered closed. This man’s cock-head was like velour in his mouth. So silky and smooth. Too large; Noctis could just about wrap his lips around the tip, but it didn’t matter. He worked his tongue against Ardyn’s head, suckling loudly as he went.

“Of course you have, my lovely boy…” Ardyn stroked Noctis’s cheek, fingering the young man’s lips were they were wrapped around his dick. “It’s written all over your face.” 

He grunted as Noctis sucked particularly hard. “Careful, now…”

But Noctis was starting to lose himself. His own cock had somehow started to rise again. Halfway hard just from the pleasure of putting his mouth on this man. It didn’t make sense—how could he be ready again after just coming? …And yet, the truth was right there in front of his face.

Something about Ardyn made Noctis insatiable, he realized. He’d never gone more than once in a night, but. Now there was this. The more Noctis licked him, the more he wanted. He thought about touching himself…though, this was supposed to be about Ardyn. It was his turn, wasn’t it?

Did this work like regular turn taking? Or…?

Noctis looked up at Arydn and found the man’s face loose and content. Smiling like a cat purring under a human’s hand. Rocking back and forth every so slightly, creating more friction in Noctis’s mouth. 

Ardyn was handsome like this. More than handsome. He was _stunning_. Any woman would be lucky to be with him; Noctis felt a strong measure of pride to know that _he_ was the one Ardyn had chosen to take home tonight. Him, Noctis Caelum. No one else.

Fuck. Noctis wanted to see all of him. 

He dragged his hands up and started fiddling with the buttons on Ardyn’s shirt. Still licking him, the young man managed to get the first two buttons undone. Ardyn chuckled at first—then, all at once, his smile disappeared.

Frowning, face more serious than Noctis had ever seen it, Ardyn grabbed the young lord’s hands. Stopping them. He rounded on Noctis with an angry look in his eyes.

That look. Cold rage simmering with betrayal. A new layer to this stranger. A much, much darker one.

Startled, Noctis let Ardyn’s cock fall from his lips. He froze, not sure what to say.

The moment lingered. Ardyn glared at Noctis. Deadly and pissed. The younger man sat there on his knees. Expecting something to happen. Were they going to fight or were they going to fuck? There was a fifty-fifty chance of either.

Little by little, Ardyn’s face softened. He slowly let go of Noctis’s hands, moving into a sitting position on the bed. As the seconds ticked by, Ardyn’s face sprang back to its normal, lackadaisical self. Noctis sat next to him. Just waiting it out.

“Now, then,” Ardyn said eventually. Back to his usual tone. “There will be none of that, darling.” 

“You…want to keep your shirt on?” Noctis asked awkwardly. 

Ignoring the question, Ardyn pushed Noctis’s head back to his crotch. “As you were, solider,” he said with a good helping of sarcasm. 

So, Noctis resumed his licking. To his great surprise, Ardyn’s cock had actually deflated somewhat in the midst of…whatever that was. He was a little disappointed to know that there was something—Noctis could not be sure what, but, _something_ —that turned Ardyn off about sex. Plus, it was clear now that Noctis was not going to get the chance to see Ardyn fully bare. What a shame! And how was that fair, when Noctis was laying there without a stitch of clothing to his name?

As usual, when the young lord Caelum was told no, he became even more stubborn about getting his way.

But there was still time. In this position, with Noctis bearing down on a reclining Ardyn, he could get a little more length in his mouth. So he did. He rolled his tongue all over the throbbing vein on the underside. Stuck his tongue against the crown, under the foreskin. He wanted to drive this man wild. That’s what he needed to do.

His mind was made up. 

“Mmmm, what a lovely tongue you have, Noct,” Ardyn purred. “Yes, quite skilled, aren’t you?”

Noctis pulled away and grinned. “Actually, this is my first time.”

“Is it?” Ardyn’s eyes widened. “That can’t be true! You’re lying to me, prince.”

Noctis laughed, shrugging innocently. “Nope, it’s the truth."

Mouth twisting into a smile, Ardyn sat up, regarding Noctis with an incredulous, excited look. “You’ve never pleasured a man in this way before?”

“Um, to be honest, I’ve…” Noctis smiled shyly. “…never pleasured a man at all before. Never been with a guy until now.” 

Ardyn’s eyes came alive with glee. He stroked the back of one hand down Noctis’s cheek reverently. For a long moment he said nothing. Then, finally, he kissed Noctis on the forehead and whispered, “Oh, you exquisite young man. How have I managed to find you—the wayward master who parades around town in a garish dress, yet has no experience with other men?” 

“Heh.” Sheer delight sparkled inside Noctis’s chest. He liked when Ardyn talked to him like that. 

Like he was something special. Exactly what the older man wanted. Those words riled Noctis up to the point where he would do anything. It should have been scarier than it was, having such an obvious, needy trigger. But Noctis felt too good to care.

He pressed his forehead against Ardyn’s, kissing him quickly on the lips. “Well, I’m all yours tonight.” 

The older man gathered Noctis in his arms, scooping him in close and guiding the young man to straddle his hips. “Indeed you are, Noct.”

The view from on top of Ardyn’s lap was pretty good. He had to admit. Content, he watched as Ardyn reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small vial. Smirking, the older man twisted off the top and poured some viscous liquid onto his fingers. He slathered them up, making sure there was an even coat all around.

Noctis looked on curiously. 

“Remember, Noct,” Ardyn lectured, folding his dry hand under Noctis’s bottom and lifting him up so the young man was back on his knees, hovering over him. “A gentleman is always prepared.” 

A crease formed between Noctis’s brow. He wanted to smile at that, but he didn’t know what Ardyn meant. Prepared for what? 

But those golden eyes were _riveting_. Keeping Noctis’s gaze locked on his own, Ardyn curled his fingers behind Noctis. Pressing between a crevice that no one had ever touched before (save, perhaps, in his infancy). The cold goop on the man’s fingers gave Noctis a start, then he felt them prodding at his entrance…

He gasped, high in his throat. Almost like a yelp.

Ardyn laughed. Low and dark. Supremely pleased. He prodded Noctis’s virgin opening again, this time inserting one finger all the way to the first knuckle.

They both gasped at the sensation. 

“Ardyn…” Noctis whined. Confused, but…aroused, for some reason. He could feel a piece of this man, one of those fingers he loved so much, penetrating him. Pushing inside of him. It was weird in a big way, and… _good_. “…There?” 

“Yes, there, love,” Ardyn answered. He swirled his finger in circles, stretching Noctis for himself. “Ah. How very tight you are…” 

Jaw dropping, Noctis felt himself opening. So. Apparently this was how it…worked. Ardyn was going to use him like this. 

Yes.

Sure. There was a lot to be nervous about. But more than anything, Noctis was excited. There was a whole world of pleasure slowly unearthing itself inside him. Ardyn stuck in another finger, stretching, tugging. Caressing the rim in such a loving way that Noctis couldn’t hold back a shiver. Rubbing the inner depths—the _inside_ parts—and making them feel good.

“Ah…” Noctis felt his body begin to relax. Small waves of pleasure crept up on him. Making him stretch out across Ardyn’s body. 

How many fingers were inside him now? Two, three? Noctis had lost count. But he liked it. And he thought he could handle a little more. Especially when Ardyn reached forward, curled his fingers against the front….right _there_ …!

“Oh!” Noctis’s went stiff as board. Tremors of something that felt dangerously close to climax rippled through him. He wasn’t cumming—Noctis knew that—but he wanted to! He wanted more of that…oh, god, that was maddening!

“Does it feel good, darling?” Ardyn cooed. Enjoying every minute.

“Y-yesss…” Realizing where he liked it, Noctis started undulating his hips. Trying to spear himself just so on Arydn’s fingers. Focused on getting what he needed. “Oh, yes, there, it’s…ah…”

Something like a growl escaped Ardyn’s lips. Before explaining himself to Noctis, he flipped their positions, pushing Noctis down on his back and forcing himself between the younger man’s spread knees. He kissed and licked the boy’s throat. Not nearly as precise as before. Now he was just hungry. Tasting. Fighting some kind of urge.

“Are you ready for me, Miss Caelum?” Ardyn barked. His unmistakable, thick cock-head pressed against the young man’s stretched entrance.

It was a lot. But Noctis felt empty without those fingers inside of him. And, if they were going to play like they had in the gardens, then that was fine with him.

“Quite ready, sir,” he said. He meant to feign his female self’s voice. But. He was too excited to put it on.

Ardyn didn’t seem to mind.

Throwing the younger man’s legs over his still-clothed shoulders, Ardyn slid the head of his prick inside Noctis. 

“Ah-ha!” The young lord sat up at the waist from the mix of pain and sheer sensation he got from that. It hurt, yes. Noctis was not prepared. But the feeling as it passed beyond his rim, into the soft parts of himself…

He needed more.

“Ardyn! Keep going, that’s…!” 

“I am, darling, I am…” Ardyn’s face melted into bliss. He pushed forward, halfway in now. “How’s that?”

Noctis was more open than he’d ever been in his life. This kind of sex—it couldn’t be okay, there had to be something wrong with doing this. And yet…Noctis looked down and found his own manhood at full attention. Straining and flushed. When Ardyn pulled out slightly, then pushed back in, Noctis found himself dripping in arousal.

This—having this man’s velvety cock jammed inside of him—was something Noctis had needed for a very. Long. Time. He didn’t know when. But he had sorely needed it. And now, having it, felt like answering some wish from ages ago. A wish Noctis had almost forgotten making. But that resonated in his bones, right down to the very core of his being. A pleasure unlike any other. 

“More, please…!”

“Ah, so you can say please,” Ardyn mused gruffly, canting his hips in and out of Noctis.

“Yes! Yes yes yes…yes…” Noctis moaned and groaned underneath Ardyn. Every bit the same as the women he had fucked in the past. He knew it. He knew he what he was acting like.

But it just felt so damn good! His mind went blank. All he needed was more of Ardyn, reaming him. Thrusting in hard and pulling out slow. All muscle on the thrusts, making Noctis see stars, and then gentle on his way out. To remind Noctis that he was still being cherished. Still safe. Still wanted.

“Mmm…Noct…” 

Ardyn’s face was scrunched up. Clearly focusing on controlling his thrusts. The usual banter had escaped him, it seemed. Noctis knew what it felt like to fuck a woman. That tight wet heat. It felt good. Ardyn must have been feeling that. 

He liked being able to give the older man that kind of pleasure.

And shit. He was close. Definitely. His cock was rubbing against the buttons of Ardyn’s shirt—

Oh right. There was one more thing Noctis wanted. 

In a frenzy, he gripped the fabric of Ardyn’s collared shirt and _pulled_. As hard as he could. Out and apart, trying to force the buttons to bursting so that he didn’t have to waste time undoing them all—

It worked. Ardyn’s shirt ripped open right down the middle. Buttons went flying in all directions. It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of plan, but it worked. Noctis had done it all before Ardyn could even react.

Now, with his shirt dangling open, Ardyn punched his hips harder in and out of Noctis. It was the only punishment he could give, considering the fact that he was way too immersed in the experience to pull out now. Noctis accepted the harsh thrusts gladly, running his hands down the smooth, muscly expanse of Ardyn’s chest. There was no hair there, to his surprise. It was all silky, sweaty flesh. Unyielding muscle. Lean, chiseled abs. Protruding bones around the hips where his body thinned out. 

Sneering in anger, Ardyn hissed, “I told you not to.” 

Noctis’s blue eyes flashed victoriously. “I know, but I wanna see…” 

He stared at the man’s bare chest. When Ardyn moved just so, his body was bathed in light from the gas lamp. As the man rocked uncontrollably back and forth, Noctis could see the definitions of his skin. And there, he saw it. Some black mark in very center of the man’s chest. Noctis squinted, trying to get a better look. There were lines—circular lines and black ink.

Of course, Ardyn could see where Noctis was looking. His hips slowed. The mouthwatering thickness of that cock shrunk slightly—Noctis felt it from the inside. Eventually, Ardyn’s hips came to a slow stop.

“Right.” He leaned back, exposing himself fully to the light. “Was this what you wanted to see?”

Noctis was floored. He’d heard about this, of course, but never actually seen—! 

Spreading across the middle of Ardyn’s chest was thick, black circular tattoo. At first, Noctis thought it was a compass. At each of the four cardinal directions there were letters. Incomprehensible to Noctis, of course. A.I. in the south. W. in the east. E.H. in the north. Something like…N in the west? Or M? It was hard to make out, and the shadows were not helping. 

When Noctis looked a little closer, enthralled by the sight, he saw that the central design was not a compass. It was a circle with pointy lines coming out at all angles. A crude rendition of the sun. 

Amazed, Noctis flicked his eyes back up to Ardyn’s. The older man was staring at him. Panting hard from the exertion, waiting to see some kind of reaction on the young lord’s face. Eyes narrowed. Poised to flee.

Whatever these tattoos meant, wherever Ardyn had gotten them, they were a painful memory. Noctis did not need to be a scholar to understand that much. 

So this man knew pain. 

Slowly, Noctis laid his hand on Ardyn’s chest. He covered the tattoo and then gently stroked it. Tracing it with his fingers. Learning the curves. Maybe he should have been afraid—any sane person would have spotted Ardyn for the dastardly type as soon as they saw that ink—but Noctis wasn’t. He was impressed; he’d never known anyone with a tattoo before. But he was not scared.

Ardyn was still inside of him. You couldn’t get any more honest than that. 

Smiling softly, Noctis leaned forward and pressed his lips to the outline of the sun. He kissed gently across the circle, licking here and there, plying Ardyn with the softest kisses he knew how to give. He fancied for a moment that the flesh in that spot tasted different—that he could somehow taste the ink—but it was just a trick of the senses. Ardyn was sweaty and his chest tasted salty and wonderful. Like everywhere else on his body.

Calming under the young man’s touch, Ardyn huffed a long sigh. He threaded his fingers through Noctis’s messy black hair. “Perhaps you’re not as smart as I thought,” he commented rudely.

Noctis snorted in response. “Probably not,” he agreed. (Because, yeah. Let’s be honest.) “But I’m still here.” 

When he looked up again, Ardyn was smiling at him. Not the coy, arrogant smile from Ravenscourt Park. It was some kind of satisfied, knowing smile. It hit Noctis in his core and made him tremble, feeling the bulk of Ardyn’s cock spring back to life. 

“That you are.” 

Growling again, Ardyn tossed Noctis back down on the bed and fucked him hard. Relentlessly. Not pausing for the young man to catch his breath. It would have been brutal, except being fucked through the mattress scratched all the hidden itches Noctis had been harboring for most of his life. So there were no complaints.

Ardyn fucked Noctis straight into another orgasm, letting the younger man’s cock slide perfectly against his abs. Not even touching him. The friction was enough. When Noctis cried out with abandon, Ardyn climaxed as well. He released deep inside the younger man, really letting himself go. 

It was rough sex. Hard, fast, and intense. Noctis had never really done that before. But, today was a day of many firsts. 

They lay on top of each other, Ardyn with his nose buried in Noctis’s hair. Slowly, they remembered their limbs and other extremities. Reality trickled back down. Feeling returned, as did their senses. 

Noctis felt woozy. Unable to get up. He wanted to lay on Ardyn’s bed for at least the next full day. Maybe he could send a letter home or something, letting them know where he was? 

Or maybe not. Whatever. Noctis just needed to lay there getting his mind fucked into oblivion for a little while. The estate could manage without him, probably.

“Can I make a proposition, Miss Caelum?” Ardyn intoned grandly, still lodged within the inner recesses of his guest. Without any intention of pulling out.

“Mmm?” Why did it not feel weird when Ardyn called him that? Would it ever sound strange? Being called a ‘miss?’ But from Ardyn, it just felt so natural.

“How about we keep going until the sun comes up?” He kissed Noctis’s forehead as if it were a normal, every day kind of notion. Having sex straight through the night. “Call it morbid curiosity on my part.” He whispered the next part straight into Noctis’s ear. “I want to see how many times you can come before those beautiful blue eyes of yours burst into tears."

Noctis laughed. Actually, he wanted to find out the same thing.

Turning around on his side, Noctis patted Ardyn’s shoulders. “Yeah, okay. You think you got it in you?” 

The smile on Ardyn’s lips faltered for just a moment. “Shall we find out?”

Already resigned to his fate for the evening—happily so—Noctis absentmindedly traced the black sun on Ardyn’s chest. He could probably just lay there and do this for hours, honestly. Watching the flesh yield to him. Feeling the contours of the older man’s chest. Staring at the uneven points on the hand-drawn tattoo. 

“Sure.”

Why not. It would be fun.

 

 

 

 

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^______^
> 
> So yeah, I do have a lot of headcanons about where this universe is going (and Ardyn's backstory, obviously). I might turn this into a series if people like it and if I have the time. Because wahhhh this Victorian era stuff is so fun! And we can explore a lot with these characters :) :)
> 
> Much love, everyone! As always <3 <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Love to hear from you guys! You can always talk to me on tumblr too.


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